
c> 



s * * r ^ ^ •*' N v ^ , 

*- " A »v ■% 

* 'S> 'f „ e? s* * - 7 * 

% A> * tf{\ A A ^ *L 

^ . A\\AA/'A ° tP K 

* 0 > </> " * 

* ay -* 

4 - SS> * 

c** ✓ 



' rV vV * 

* <& ° ^ 

„ c ^ 

<1^ ^ ° 

- v A .£' * °* 

_ / * * ft s S ^0 < ^ 0 * J, 

A °o g°vAa A -'* 

°io' ’%. v* 



^ A 




* <v' ^ 


7 . y . ^ 




7 .** 


.y % „ 

, __ >* «V '■ - 

**, s rA *• ^ ^ -* 

, I v IJt <\ ■* 0 « X * A 

b [fP V V-'i! ♦ *%. ,A t 0 N C . 

w ( + ^ <y K 

JiplS^ * \° v ^ 

r> ✓ " ‘ - V - t A <#• Ay - A’ sT 

t % - :mm% ^ A - - 1 

v.jwvr * a* V ^ - y»i*^ o .«.* 2 p« 

y ,, . * A 

\V 

aa y 

^ A A^W, 

*'- ^ W%. . .r 4 « Mm&> r <0 

o o x * - ** 

y A 7 V 

*-•*'“* ~o. \A * 0 N ? 


A «> 

A >/* \0 To * 

v>. ^ V A > 0 N0 0> % .f o, \ 


*, A. c.V 


^-. * 5 S 0 ? ^0 

^ ^ ^ ^ Y 

*> # ' ^ 


y A '. Wm " y "7 . WW® * -av* - ^ 

0 N r - * A- ' * * s *;° , , v <\ ■' o, ^ .\ ^ y // 

0 ° ^ ./ ' 

^;-. k ! yk r .• - k dt'fi/. y ''^’- ^ *\ < _^5^vNv,v»w ^ ^ 


a ^ 

° \° ©o 


'"o 


O * 


fo.. % .*■' aV-' c^ r _0 

' l *°^% \> V s" ^ * A 0 N ° -, 

V, x ' ^ ' v 0 ' ^ Y *" /■ r/ c 

* .a A* ^ 35 ^ 


,A 







A 0 v •.. ° 

),0 o^, , ^ 





V^V. 


- <v* 

A 

y> ^ C t 

A .f 



V 

o o x 


,V A " 




c^- v f r\ ’*■ '-z^yyjvgK' y ■ o 

' ' ' j0 • -o' "- V s 0 V- 

* > A » ' *"/ A " ' v V v' •* t 

% .&' •Wa*' ^ ,v. - xi- - „ 

"• v -Mmi '**<& %.*<* 


V 


VOV — o 

/- ^\uv A; • > 

A ", ^ A (v 1 
- * o ^ o ^ A’ 




a 9 '.*:*.*'. % v • 


oV ’< 

Q 6 •* A > ® ' 

<=” ^ 

' 0 o Y 

* 8 1 


** 


•j. 





^ - 
//>7 ^ 

*$/Ah *'v 

Y v%b*Y Y ■' . 

’3- '' j ^0 ^ / o _ . 

/ O < J Y x , 

/ v> ' -t V- 

*&([/%?*?+ '^. .-V * 


y K\^ <, 

**>. * 0 N ° ^ *lY Y*. « 

V *> '<V ^ * * 0 A 

<- . a» r iS a * -£» 

* ^ A * A\ A r Vv, 

r- ^ (V ' • ' ° 



» i\y </> 

•• Y Y ' 

^ ^ O ^/ C _., 

N r ^ ^ tH> s •Ni w 

0 * * 



< - ♦ 

Sty ' - 

y «>* C 

« o 0 

4 

o> ^ * 

« A* \\^ - * * , *t*. * .0 r* 0 > £ 

V ^ ^ ^0' *\*°y ^ 

\V * <A <?• .1 

% = Y»* a* v Y. -^air''- Y-^. °j 

*? V ^Y an 
















































































f 



VESTA 

O R , 


J 


The Hidden 


Cross. 



BY 


FLORIDA PRESLEY REED. 


l\ 


\> 

L. U v 1 

r\ . 1 






y^ 


—r ( 




Atlanta, Ga.: 

THE FOOTE & DAVIES CO., PRINTERS & BINDERS. 

1894 . 











V « 


A 1 




•o 


A 

r\ 



/ 


Copyright 1894, by Florida P. Peed, 











T O MY GRANDDAUGHTER, 

FLORIDA CLARK, 

I dedicate this volume, in token of the sweetness of 
her innocent and pure young life, and those happy 
hours which link together our hearts and bring to 
my soul the sunniest flowers of memory and love, 
lighting up the close of life’s chequered day with 
the glowing radiance of her own immortality. 

F. M. R. 


HAIL, ALL HAIL. 


Hail! beauteous land of love and flowers, 
In splendor of these passing hours; 

We’ll cull a bright and heavenly store 
Plucked from the scenes and days of yore, 
A wreath of inspiration given 
To link our souls with those of Heaven, 
From flowers o’er us formed to shed 
Mementos of the gallant dead. 

Hail! beauteous land of love and wealth, 
Thy founts are those of joy and health, 
Where nature opes her “golden clue” 

To every path we would pursue— 

Rich in the field’s enchanting maze, 

In sweets distill’d from nectar’d sprays, 
All yet to mingle where we tread 
Aye! mid the noble patriot dead. 

Hail! beauteous land of love and song, 
Sweet music cheers our path along, 

In holy greetings where we roam— 

E’en to the humblest, lowliest home, 
To-night we’d tune the lip and lyre— 

And lead a youthful hymning choir, 

In song of what the soul may tell 
Of those who strove—of those who fell. 

Hail! beauteous land of heavenly worth, 
The noblest race of mortal birth— 

Be thine the soul’s expanding zeal, 

To make thy men and women feel 
The spirit of the brave and free— 

To link them into harmony, 

With glory round the gallant dead, 

And love upon our altars shed. 

So let our waving banner glow 
In Union, that the world may know 
A land of love, of joy and peace— 

Of bonds renewed—till time shall cease. 



Vesta; or ( .The Hidden Cross 


CHAPTER I. 

FLORA CRYSTA. 

The famous residence of Judge Edward How¬ 
ard stands pre-eminent in grandeur and beauty. 
Everything in the character of the spot confirms 
the descriptions given by tourists from all parts of 
the world. 

The lovely garden enclosing the home, which 
we define and understand as “Flora Crystal 
from local relations and affinities, presents a most 
charming view to the eyes of the beholder—as he 
gazes upon the lustre of the ever-varying, and re¬ 
flecting tints of the myriads of flowers and ever¬ 
greens embedded in the richest profusion of rocks 
and mosaic emblems. 

This garden impresses one as some vast exhibi¬ 
tion of painting in a school of art; a romantic as¬ 
semblage of terraces that rise above the environing 
country, commanding a most glowing prospect, 
held in hereditary reverence—a delightful field for 
contemplation, a place for perpetual enjoyment— 
with its bending trees, &nd spreading arches; its 
massive walls covered with mosses, and walks of 



8 


VESTA; 


purest white; its magnificent tropical trees mingl¬ 
ing with smaller growths. One finds also luxuriant 
banana trees with their long, silky, green leaves; a 
great variety of palms and an infinite diversity of 
foliage and ferns; where the melody of birds regale 
the ear and the sparkling waters awaken visions of 
a lost Paradise—lighted again with the effulgence 
of a glory, grand and spiritual, and throwing en¬ 
chantments around mind and heart. 

On the first terrace is what is termed Sentinel 
Avenue, so named because of the tall, sentinel-like 
trees that line it. 

In the second terrace, is the Bower Avenue, 
at either end of which is a lovely summer house. 

In the third terrace, is the Labyrinth, a wind¬ 
ing puzzle, the effect of which is bewildering to the 
young people. The last is Magnolia Avenue, the 
one by which visitors enter the garden from the 
magnificent grove of old oaks beyond. 

Notable among the designs is the Lovers’ 
Bower. It is formed by an Australian tree, the 
Eleagnus, whose boughs clamber over the frame¬ 
work and fall to the ground, giving a sequestered 
shade, suitable to the meditation of ardent lovers. 
A peculiarity about the tree, is that the little twigs 
grow towards the trunk—not from it, as our na¬ 
tive trees. 

Roses, pervading every nook with the sweetest 
fragrance, unfold their splendor into velvets, 
cloths of gold and crimson damasks. Jasmines, 
tinged with white and golden yellow, mingle in 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


9 


beds of native and exotic plants and orientals col¬ 
lected from every quarter of the globe. This lovely 
paradise is an illimitable field of light and blessing 
to its present occupants; but even here , as the sea¬ 
sons unfold their bloom, they awaken too, a feeling 
of the mystic past, where neither the splendors of 
this enchanted spot, nor the bright investiture of 
nature, can lighten the weight upon the heart or 
cause it to lose sight of the inevitable death lot 
and appalling scenes of the late Civil War and its 
ultimate bearings upon the founders of Flora 
Crj^sta. 

A glance at this topic is all we can attempt in 
this connection—the recording angel of Heaven 
turning attention to the great deeds of the Lost 
Confederacy, receiving their hue and character as 
they were allegiant or rebellious; God’s judgment 
alone deciding and tracing them forever upon the 
tablets of eternity. 


10 


VESTA; 


CHAPTER II. 

VESTA. 

It is from this earthly paradise that the hero¬ 
ine of this story is drawn, one whose mind contem¬ 
plated all its beauties and whose every precious 
gem was consecrated by music, poetry and love, 
and to whom bright spiritual creatures seemed 'to 
live upon perfumes and drink from jewelled cups 
sparkling high with life’s sweetest elixir. In the 
morn and liquid dews of maidenhood we behold 
her, more beautiful than the heroines of antiquity, 
with a superb form modeled from Grecian statu¬ 
ary as it seemed ; her dark eyes, the most wonder¬ 
ful feature of that lovely face, ever radiant with 
expression; her hair waving in curls of inexpressi¬ 
ble beauty and falling below her waist; her pure 
sweet lips giving expression to every emotion of 
her tender nature. Full of grace and modesty, she 
never seemed the least conscious of her exquisite 
beauty—bearing too, a name from which poetry 
borrows its holiest inspiration, and a character as 
unalloyed as the very name itself. Aye! for in that 
enchanted paradise, Vesta had been reared and for¬ 
tified in mind and soul. 

“Rich in all woman’s loveliness; 

With eyes so pure that from their ray 
Dark vice would turn abashed away, 

Plinded like serpents when they gase 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


11 


Upon the emerald’s virgin blaze; 

It et filled with all youth’s sweet desires, 

Mingling the meek and vestal fires 
Of other worlds with all the bliss, 

The fond, weak tenderness of this. 

A soul too, more than half divine, 

Religion’s softened glories shine, 

Like light through summer foliage stealing, 
Shedding a glow of such mild hue, £ 

So warm and yet so shadowy too, 

As makes the very darkness there 
More beautiful than light elsewhere. ” 

Thus in the best type of female character do 
we behold Vesta Howard. We see her from the 
first blow of the violets in spring to the last fall¬ 
ing leaf of the summer rose, indulging in every in¬ 
nocent pleasure her paradise afforded—the pure air 
giving a vivid color to her cheeks—supremely 
lovely; especially, when those beautiful, dark eyes 
laughed out upon us in their gentleness and sweet¬ 
ness, a visible sign of the heart within, and those 
superlatively feminine qualities typical of the dis¬ 
cipline brought to bear upon her early training and 
education. 

Years have passed since those eyes beamed 
upon us, and yet they seem to greet us with the 
same heavenly radiance as of yesterday—when life 
was as beautiful as the flowers of spring and as 
bright as her own crystalline rocks—for such vir¬ 
tues create a mirror in which they see their own re¬ 
flections. Even now, we hear that tender voice 
modulating every tone by which the soul was per- 


12 


VESTA; 


fected; we behold that face, pure and spotless as the 
white lilies that adorned her home, as she stood 
“dreaming her maiden dreams among the flowers,” 
reminding one of a goddess in all the grace and 
loveliness of her fair young life. Whenever she 
sang, what music could be compared to her voice? 
It was then the ripples of the fountains, the songs 
of the birds re-echoed her heavenly notes. Such 
was Vesta. 

“The light of love, the purity of grace, ' 

The mind, the music breathing from her face, 

The heart, whose softness harmonized the whole; 

And oh! that eye was in itself a soul.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


13 


CHAPTER III. 

THE STAFFORD FAMILY. 

Before proceeding with this narrative, it is nec¬ 
essary to give a brief sketch of the Stafford fam- „ 
ily. The original owners of the land on w^hich 
Flora Crvsta is built were emigrants from the 
State of North Carolina and were among the most 
noted settlers of Georgia. The country then was, 
in many parts, a theatre of hostilities with the In¬ 
dians, in which much blood was shed, and where 
the most brilliant achievements of contest were 
performed. The forefathers of the family were 
English, but were not backward in supporting the 
cause of freedom in the land of their adoption. 
The spirit which was aroused and blazed forth in 
other heroes, displayed itself conspicuously in the 
ancestors of this distinguished family. The settler 
of the old homestead adjoining Flora Crysta was 
William Stafford. “Grandpa” (as we shall here 
recognize him) was a man of remarkable benevo¬ 
lence, justice and pacific policy. He purchased im¬ 
mense tracts of land from the Indians, in conjunc¬ 
tion with others, establishing plantations in Ala¬ 
bama. By his wise management with the hostile 
tribes, he was rendered very popular, treating them 
with the courtesy of a Penn and dealing with 
them upon the most honorable and humane terms. 


14 


VESTA ' 


It was the sister of this philanthropist, who 
with her entire family was conducted to an asylum 
of safety, when in a few moments after, her house 
was entirely consumed by the torch applied by a 
frantic tribe, an event rendered memorable in the 
annals of Indian warfare and one which proves 
the great efficacy of kindness and humanity in 
hours of danger. 

At the period of the settlement alluded to, 
there was no diffusion of knowledge and no emi¬ 
nence in literature or science. 

William Stafford was one of the first who pro¬ 
moted the interests of education and his establish¬ 
ment of schools was laudable indeed, and though a 
worldly man, he greatly aided in building up 
churches—ever considering religion as an essential 
principle in a national state government. 

Grandma Stafford, who is an important charac¬ 
ter in this narrative, was the daughter of a Revolu¬ 
tionary soldier, and a major on the staff of Gen. 
Washington, a brilliant character, fully established 
in the records of war. In the first rank of womanly 
excellence, she was a grand illustration of early 
times; a liberal admixture of poetic sentiment 
with the contrasting attainments of good sense 
and practical knowledge. Born of noble parent¬ 
age and a father who abhorred the vanities of fe¬ 
males, she early avoided any intimate associations 
and breathed a holy inspiration from her own 
home—her husband and children—hence, the old 
homestead became a pleasant resort for learned di- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


15 


vines and tourists from various parts of the coun¬ 
try, and their minds are still fragrant with beauti¬ 
ful memories of those scenes. Grandma was born 
and raised an Episcopalian, but after emigrating 
to Georgia, became a member of the Baptist church, 
and such became her veneration for her new faith, 
that many people deemed her sectarian; but, in this, 
as in all her undertakings, she only cast “fresh 
leaves on the waters,” with fervent prayers that 
they might not return unto her void. 

After assisting her husband and co-operating 
with him in the selection, of a permanent home, 
Grandma’s natural tendency led her to employ her 
refined and cultivated taste in its embellishment, 
and hence, among the wilds of Georgia, where the 
plough of the adventurer bore down the daisy, in 
her own isolation and independence, girt by the 
forests on all sides, it is true that she planted the 
first flower garden that was ever known in this 
part of Georgia. The task of selecting choice an¬ 
nuals and shrubs was executed by her own hands. 
To the people of that day this garden seemed al¬ 
most divine. Others strove to vie with her in their 
improvements, but none possessed her art in the 
cultivation of flowers. Her beautiful garlands 
were free offerings to everybody. 

The noblest proof, however, of her strong hold 
upon society then, was the unbounded charity 
which immortalizes her name, and the story of her 
life is still told with admirable detail and force by 
the poor of her neighborhood. Their tears mingle 


16 


VESTA ; 


with the old songs she sang and ivill until she 
passes quietly away. Grandma’s love of nature 
did not decay with age or circumstances, but was 
preserved and transmitted to her children, and led 
finally to a development which originated the 
lovely Flora Crysta, the wonderful growth and 
wealth of which, have been somewhat described. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


17 


CHAPTER IV. 

GRANDPA AND GRANDMA. 

The relations existing between these aged peo¬ 
ple were the most amicable and, at times., quite 
humorous; but in the calm beauty of such relations, 
we catch the tones of the “Old South.’’ and the 
genial delight in all that was human, which distin¬ 
guished the true blood of Georgia. There was in 
Grandma a contempt for the false estimates of 
life, a proud retirement from the meaner and 
coarser scenes around them. It was this utter iso¬ 
lation that explains the difference between the two 
for Grandpa loved everybody, f and visited every¬ 
body. Their devotion to each other appeared as 
peculiarly adapted to poetry. 

We read much of the romance of different 
lands, but in the home of these aged people, was 
the romance of real life and is connected with many 
a scene of “auld lang syne.” Often in walking 
through the familiar scenes of the homestead, we 
are reminded of a pleasing incident. The old gen¬ 
tleman had a spice of pure gallantry about him. 
One day in company with his wife—who was con¬ 
ducting a number of young ladies and gentlemen 
through her flowers—he crept to a bed of white 
pinks, gathered a handful of them, hastily stole to 
the'house, stripped them entirely ofjjthejr leaves, 


18 


VESTA; 


and tied them with pink ribbon. Returning to the 
garden, he accosted his wife, saying as he did so: 

“Here, Polly,is abouquet forvou, whichl desire 
you to wear on your bosom.” 

Grandma thanked him and, without any intimi¬ 
dation, pinned them as he desired, much to the mer¬ 
riment of the bystanders. 

“Grandpa,” said one of the girls, “you are the 
very spice of gallantry.” 

“How can I be otherwise when such a sweet 
face as Polly’s invites my gallantry,” he replied. 

“Come, William, none of your foolishness now, 
as you are too old for such demonstrations,” said 
she. 

But William did not obey, for at that moment 
passing an old “sweet-shrub” bush, he haul’d off 
five or six sprigs full of flowers, and handing each 
younglady one, remarked: 

“These are what girls used to wear in my 
courting days at picnics and quilting frolics to 
make them attractive to the boys.” 

With these words, and fits of laughter from 
the boys,. Grandma called the attention of the 
girls to another part of the garden leaving the old 
gentleman and the boys to enjoy the sauciness 
they could not resist, every one present being 
aware of the term applied to the flowering sweet 
shrub in those old times. 

“Grandpa,” said one of the boys, “I wish you 
would join our crowd in a tour north this sum- 
me , I know we would enjoy having you.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


19 


“Yes,” and “yes,” said the others, “do go along 
with us.” 

Grandpa, in his careless freedom and courtesy, 
consented at once to go. He laughed outright 
when one of the boys told him he would introduce 
him to the pretty women of New York. 

“Don’t say this to Polly, for by heavens! I’ll 
never see New York if you do.” 

“Not for the world, Grandpa,” replied the 
boys. 

“I tell you, boys, Polly is too quick-witted not 
to see the point in these matters.” 

“But you must not disappoint us; we’ll count 
on you,” said the boys. 

“All right. I am turning over in my head your 
suggestions and if not foiled, I’ll certainly be 
ready to go.” 

Grandpa’s efforts were not foiled, for really, he 
did go with the boys to New York, and from thence 
to Saratoga,and on to the Niagara Falls, and oh! the 
rich times they enjoyed will do to record and hang 
upon the walls as an era full of fun and marvel¬ 
lous legends, the rehearsal of which was truly de¬ 
lightful. 

“Grandpa, in New York City, was a great en¬ 
igma to the people and roused a general enthusi¬ 
asm wherever he went, impressing everyone with 
his rare refinement and nobility of character. Be¬ 
sides being a man of singularly handsome person, 
his face all aglow with manly passion, his voice 


20 


VESTA; 


seemed to pour in upon the Yankees like a flood of 
rippling waters. 

“What old gentleman is that,” said a lady, 
“with such kindly courtesy and dignified polite¬ 
ness ?” 

“How grateful I feel to him,” said another, 
“for his chivalric gallantry to me this morning- 
on the train, when thrown hither and thither by 
rude men.” 

O, gallant Southerner! let it still be your dis¬ 
tinction to feel a chivalric consideration for wo¬ 
men. Let the same tribute paid to Grandpa in a 
strange land forever greet the Georgian wherever 
he may go; let him ever remain conscious of his an¬ 
cestral pride and crown with glory the age in 
which he lives. 

Upon one occasion, however, Grandpa lost his 
self-control and the Southern fire of his nature 
blazed forth like a volcano. At one of the princi¬ 
pal hotels, the subject of the table-talk, directed to 
Grandpa, was the perpetuation of the Union, and 
from that to the secession of the States. One gen¬ 
tleman argued that according to the bonds of Un¬ 
ion, fugitives from the South were to be rendered 
up on proper claim; another disagreed with him 
and denounced anyone opposing his views on 
the subject. 

From that , some one suggested that whoever 
held slavery as right, should be imprisoned, or 
put to death, if he persisted in such oppression of 
his fellow man. The parties becoming more and 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


21 


more heated in raillery against the South, Grandpa 
could contain himself no longer. He arose impet¬ 
uously and said: 

“Gentlemen, I am a Southern man, the owner 
of more slaves than you can throw a stick at. To 
the North, South, East and West I am bound so 
long as a peaceful Union can be preserved. Against 
this anti-slavery question the South is forced to 
contend in justice to the property forced by the 
North upon her people. Where there is treason to 
any one section, there is blood-guiltiness, there is 
oppression and I raise my voice against those who 
sanction such measures and the powers of hell 
can’t keep me from doing so.” 

These remarks, so characteristic of the man, 
quite vanquished his assailants, and put a quietus 
to the table talk. Instead of offering any resist¬ 
ance, the gentlemen began to inquire who the old 
gentleman was that dared give expression to 
Southern sentiments so freely and boldly. Said 
one of the young men of Grandpa’s party : 

“He is a man who would remain in the Union, 
with a faithful performance of constitutional ob¬ 
ligations, but when these are denied, he would re¬ 
dress grievances at the point of the bayonet, nor 
would his courage falter at any moment in doing 
so.” 

In a few moments there arose a general scene 
of merriment, the guests, most of whom were New 
Yorkers, participating with cordial good will; even 
the waiters in attendance doubled their efforts to 


22 


vesta; 


serve the old gentleman from Georgia, who at the 
moment, became the lord of the table, as well as 
lord of the “lash” in the South, as he was so de¬ 
nounced. 

Grandpa drew inspiration from his own sunny 
land, nor was he ever afraid to speak, especially when 
losing his equilibrium or balance in a mood of an¬ 
ger. There was, however, no irrepressible conflict in 
his noble and generous nature, that tended to 
animosity. He loved the North, where he had 
many warm friends; and a broken union was a 
melancholy theme to him. He felt that protection 
and security should be the chief end of govern¬ 
ment. “The greatest good to all without detri¬ 
ment to any” should be the rule. 

Grandma felt more than any one the injustice 
of Northern measures, but in this, as in all matters, 
she said, “let us do our full duty, leaving results 
to that 

“Divinity which shapes our ends. 

Rough hew them how we will.” 

Those who have the most lasting claims to re¬ 
spect are those who have benevolence and charity em¬ 
blazoned on the folds of memory; hence, as long as 
the State of Georgia shall endure, the names of 
these people, governed by wisdom and the princi¬ 
ples of justice, shall be cherished and handed down 
to posterity, for from them sprang those institu¬ 
tions, mqral, intellectual and material, which first 
marked the progress of the great Empire State of 
the South. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


28 


CHAPTER V. 

THE OLD HOMESTEAD. 

Any one who ever visited the homestead of 
the Stafford family remembers the air of comfort, 
life and happiness that greeted them from every 
department: the merry faces at the doors and 
windows; the lively servants hurrying to and fro 
—some moving up and down the long staircase, 
some gliding along to the “kitchenothers at the 
carriage house, where vehicles of every description 
were placed for constant use; others about the 
horses—for it must be remembered no man ever 
loved horses more than the members of this fam¬ 
ily, always treating them with as much kindness 
as it was possible to do—the great oaks and 
mulberry trees shading the play-grounds; the 
big swing and the long shed leading one hun¬ 
dred feet from the house to the immense dining 
room, and on which the girls often sat, encircled by 
the boys. Connected with this old shed are many 
associations very dear to our heart. Far away 
stretched the hills and valleys, a magnificent herit¬ 
age. 

It was a quaint, great big old house that shel¬ 
tered so much happiness, with no special style of 
architecture, except that of other homesteads in 
the old South. Every nook and every corner was 
filled with flowers, wherever it was possible for a 


24 


VESTA; 


shrub to grow. There were summer houses scat¬ 
tered in every direction, covered with ivy andcrep- 
ers of every imaginable hue. There was not an 
air of plebeian about the entire place, but of the 
patrician order in every respect, where art, science, 
politics and literature were daily and almost 
hourly discussed. 

The parlors were filled with quaint old paint¬ 
ings, tapestry and relics of the ancestors on both 
sides of the house. 

There were twelve children in the family, but 
only three daughters and two sons were living at 
the beginning of this narrative: The eldest daugh¬ 
ter, Marie, wife of the owner of Flora Crysta, 
whose characteristics will be given hereafter; the 
second sister Happie, a coquettish, noble and mag¬ 
nificent girl, who was gloriously endowed by na¬ 
ture-wild, impulsive at times; meek and gentle at 
others; daring, fiery and humorous, “her faults 
were like her virtues, all grand ones. Happie was 
a pet name given her by her favorite brother, and 
one she bears up to the present time. 

The last and youngest, Katrine, of great 
beauty and in whose character moral force was 
united with great energy, determination and will, 
with an equability of manner, so totally the re¬ 
verse of Happie’s that it was often remarked. Kat¬ 
rine was a girl of judgment and referred every¬ 
thing she did to the end of something useful. She 
had the characteristics of Grandma, while Happie 
was the “chip of the old block,” her doting father. 


oil, The hidden cross. 25 

Katrine was a blonde; her statue as that of Hap- 
pie’s was a little above medium. 

Happie with all her gayety was devoted to 
study; hence, there was a link between her and the 
best authors. This raised her upon a level with 
the more sedate sisters of the family. 

The maxims of philosophers were carried out 
in the amusements of the family, and hence the 
girls found health in their hilarity. To throw oft” 
the cares of the world ; to ramble and listen to the 
music of the groves; to wander into the orchards 
ladened with fruit—oh! how the heart floats out 
in light, love and beauty reflected from the dear 
old homestead. The hills in every direction were 
covered with beauties far surpassing art or more 
than sculpture can convey, for they teemed with 
living forms viewed under sunshine and under shad¬ 
ows, bearing up against the storms that threat¬ 
ened them, and at last submitting to the sacrifices 
they were called upon to make for their loved and 
beautiful sunny land. What an alliance with mind 
were the qualities of such moral courage. Thus 
they lived and thus they people our recollections of 
those happy times, and dear ones “a little lower 
than the angels.” 


26 


vesta; 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE DEATH OF GRANDPA. 

Just before the death of Grandpa, the war be¬ 
tween the States of the great Federal Union, one 
of the most tremendous conflicts the world has 
ever known, broke out. The din of its clangor 
reached all parts of the land. Grandpa looked on 
with amazement as its terrors loomed forth. He 
had served his country in civil affairs, and he was 
now ready to apply his vast energies and resources 
in her military necessities. The telegraph an¬ 
nouncement of the fall of Fort Sumter inflamed 
him with ardor. This he regarded an act of de¬ 
fence, but one which satisfied him the war had 
really begun, and he naturally anticipated what 
was to follow. He was at times, gloomy in view 
of the consequences, which he knew must be at¬ 
tended on both sides with guilt, crimes, sacrifices 
and horrors. 

Mr. Lincoln called for seventy-five thousand 
troops to coerce measures which was met by a Con¬ 
federate government at Montgomery, Ala., by a 
similar call for volunteers to repel aggressions. 
At this time— 1861 —the Confederate flag, bearing 
seven stars, appeared, designating the seven seceded 
States. Then followed another and another proc- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


27 


lamation from Lincoln; finally, the suspension of 
the writ of habeas corpus. Under the most oppress¬ 
ive orders, citizens were arrested and imprisoned; 
nor could redress be obtained, not from even the 
Chief Justice of the United States. 

In the reply of Mr. Seward to the British Min¬ 
ister at Washington, Grandpa was more than ex¬ 
asperated, for said Seward: 

“I can touch a bell at my right hand, and order 
the arrest of a citizen in Cincinnati. I can touch 
one at my left hand and order the arrest of a 
man in New York. Can Victoria do more?” 

The Federal Congress at this junction not only 
raised men, but appropriated five hundred million 
dollars to equip and provision the forces against 
the South, as well as fitted up a most formidable 
naval force. Virginia was to be the great field of 
action. The first great battle was fought at Bull 
Run, a small stream a few miles from Manassas, 
the Federals bringing an army of three hundred 
thousand. The forces of the Confederates under 
Beauregard amounted to twenty thousand, joined 
by Joseph E. Johnston with eight thousand men. 

Grandpa was overwhelmed with delight with 
the decisive victory gained over the foe. 

“Never,” said he, “has the world known such 
fighting as our boys have done.” 

“How could they do otherwise” replied Grand¬ 
ma, “when they are battling for the principles and 
institutions of ^/-government, the priceless heri¬ 
tage of their ancestors?” 


28 


VESTA ; 


While all these things were going on, Grandpa’s 
health began to decline very rapidly. He knew his 
end was approaching. The idea was a crushing 
blow which fell heavily upon his family. His sons 
were summoned from the army to bid him the last 
farewell. The physicians were unabating in their 
efforts to relieve him, but alas! there was no alter¬ 
native but death. 

He had lived to see the tide turn in favor of 
Southern glory, and this enthused his last moments. 
Little did he dream of the sequel. 

“Nothing,” he faintly remarked, “deters me 
from going into ranks but old age and death.” 

Calling his old servants around him, he ad¬ 
dressed them: 

“For you, my faithful ones, I am accountable to 
God who gave me control over you. The North 
wages war to free you from your lawful owners. 
You, my dear ones, will feel the shadows of this 
conflict as we all feel it. I have never had a feeling 
but what sprang from sentiments of love and 
charity for you all. Deep and strong is my devo¬ 
tion to you, for you have served me faithfully, and 
now that I am dying, I commend you to your mis¬ 
tress and to the care of Almighty God. Farewell!” 

With this last word, the slave’s “old master,” 
the spell word, fell from each lip. They bowed 
their heads, each grasped his hand and tears fell 
like rain upon his sinking body. 

Oh! what a spectacle—the passionate grief of 
those poor, sorrowful mourners—bewailing the 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


29 


unexpected stroke to their real freedom and fondness 
for the best and truest friend they had ever had. 

Death had completed its work and dear old 
Grandpa was forever gone. The star of hope had 
vanished, the merry voice that brightened the old 
homestead had ceased. 

The whole country was thrown into sorrow 
when the swift-winged rumor reached them of 
Grandpa Stafford’s death. The wires bore the 
news to all the absent friends. 

His remains were borne to his family vault. 
The people flocked from every direction, including 
hundreds and hundreds of colored ones, to take the 
last look at “Old Massa.” The occasion was an 
exceedingly impressive one—conducted by the ma¬ 
sonic fraternity—for Grandpa was a zealous 
royal arch mason. Grandma exhibited her usual 
fortitude, as she felt she would follow him, as she 
said “to the beautiful beyond.” So ended the last 
honors to dear Grandpa. 

“La3 r him to rest, whom we all have loved so 
dearly.” said his eldest daughter, Marie. 

Amidst tears and mourning, th'e inmates of the 
old home were left alone, where they knelt in prayer, 
feeling that “Grandpa is gone, but that blossoms 
of hope are gathered at his grave—to bloom in 
everlasting and living beauty,” 


30 


VESTA; 


CHAPTER VII. 

JUDGE HOWARD. 

Judge Howard, the owner of Flora Crvsta, 
was a native of Florida. He was a full graduate 
of one of the finest institutions of the land. When 
of age and having settled up his father’s estates, 
he gave himself up entirely to the study of law. 
He made such progress that few men in his State 
could compete with him. Fluent in Latin and 
Greek, he read all the Greek, and Latin Fathers, as 
well as all the best authenticated English writers. 

He was a man of fine character, withal, a pure 
humorist with wit to charm, to instruct and to re¬ 
prove. The practical jokes of the Judge have left 
their stamp upon all with whom he came in con¬ 
tact. No one enjoyed a good time more, and in this, 
he was taken under tutelage by many of his gay 
associates. Of this latter sort, w-as one big, fat 
man, whom he ealled Col. Benjy and who would 
shrug his shoulders as the Judge passed, to which 
the latter would reply with a shake of the head, all 
of which meant something they alone understood. 

It was generally the case that boys sauntered 
along on the roadside to catch a word or two with 
the Judge, whom they deemed “so funny.” It was 
this good humor which, in a degree, made him so 
popular with everybody, by which I mean animal 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


31 


life in its fullest measure. He was a man of hon¬ 
est impulses, hatred of injustice and meanness, and 
thoughtful enough to save a penny for the good 
he might accomplish with it. 

There was a distingue air about the Judge and 
a dignity that fitted him for the courts of kings. 
In fact, he was a thoroughbred Southern man, 
without a particle of deception in his nature. In 
his dress he was peculiarly neat and aristocratic, 
ignoring, however, the diamond studs and sleeve 
appendages worn„as he said, by “fops.” In a word, 
he was the very ideal of a Florida gentleman—in¬ 
heriting immense estates from various sources, the 
bulk of which was money and lands. 

He married at an early age, Marie Stafford, a 
woman of remarkable qualities of head and heart, 
and who, like her mother, discovered the beauties in 
the floral kingdom and who, by her high culture, 
gave to those beauties, the vivid designs symbolized 
in her own Flora Crysta. 

By this marriage, they had three children: 
Paris, the eldest, a splendid young man, who be¬ 
came a soldier in the war; Vesta, the only daugh¬ 
ter, the heroine of this book and already described; 
and Ollie, the youngest boy; a spoilt child, a most 
formidable commander of the household, who gen¬ 
erally restrained himself until matters crossed him, 
when he raved and fumed like a young tiger turned 
loose, changing the whole aspect of affairs and 
producing a perfect confusion of tongues. 


32 


VESTA ; 


Besides these, there was a maiden lady of 
pure, Christian character, known as Miss Maggie, 
and who was known in capacity of housekeeper. 

There were numbers of servants, the most im¬ 
portant of which was “Aunt Tony,” who pos¬ 
sessed her proportion of privileges, and whose 
opinions had due weight in all counsels pertaining 
to domestic affairs, especially in the poultry and 
dairy department. She knew every chicken, turkey, 
goose, pea-fowl and guinea fowl on the place and 
neighborhood, and also the pugnacious spirit of 
every rooster, also every rogue of a hen that stole 
her nest in the stables or cattle sheds. 

She was an accomplished manager of cows and 
had learned from “Old Massa”the important quali¬ 
ties of milk cows. 

“Lor! said she, “Miss Marie, old Crump ought 
to be killed kase she kicks like a jack and she’s 
always lowin’ for dead folks.” 

“Has she jumped into the garden again?” said 
Mrs. Howard. 

“I seed her in de greenhouse jist now and 
how she got dar, God knows,” replied Aunt Tony. 

“Well,” said Mrs. Howard “she must be dealt 
with and you must report her to your master.” 

“Hem ! I’ll just knock,de old fool inde head and 
eat her for beef.” 

The pedigree of slaves in old Southern families 
was always a matter of consequence and was pre¬ 
served with the same degree of care that the gene¬ 
alogy of the children was, Hence, Aunt Tony 



OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


83 


claimed to be a thoroughbred “nigger” having 
been raised by “Old Massa.” She too, considered 
herself quite handsome, having every characteris¬ 
tic of the genuine African—black, wooly hair, 
thick lips and long heels. Her teeth, the most at¬ 
tractive feature, encircled her wide, laughing 
mouth in rows of ivory beauty. 

Her dress was generally that of indigo home- 
spun, with a white apron and snow-white head- 
handkerchief gathered in a kind of turban on her 
graceful head. This handkerchief in old Southern 
families was a distinctive evidence of good taste, 
but when equipped for “de big meetin,” Aunt 
Tony’s appearance was superb with her fringed and 
decorated extremities, her black-feathered hat and 
girdle of crimson. Her beads were worn with 
great profusion, for it must not be forgotten they 
were her pride on such occasions. 

When rigged up, she became as coquettish as 
some young girl—going into the house to display 
her charms to the young ladies and pressing them 
to adjust her love knots. In the gossiping diary of 
Happie, she tells how extraordinarily fine , Aunt Tony 
looked at camp-meeting, with a big red-flowered 
dress on and her hair tied with red and blue ribbon, 
also of her attitudes of grace and utter scorn of all 
other negroes beneath her in wealth and position. 
Also, how she entered the church with the soft, 
gliding movement of her “Miss Marie,” drawing 
her shawl over her shoulders in exact imitation of 
her mistress, 


34 


VESTA; 


“Indeed,” said Happie, “she looked like a fairy 
vision and her airs would make the angels weep.” 

The remaining inmates of Flora Crysta may be 
summed up in a waiting maid, house boy, carriage 
driver and a seamstress, besides two or three cooks. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


85 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE HOUSE AT FLORA CRYSTA. 

The house of Judge Howard was embellished, 
not only with classic grounds around it, but with 
collections of everything attractive within. It was 
of modern form and structure, in which the mag¬ 
nificence of wealth and taste prevailed—the en¬ 
trance, a circular porch in which were niches on 
each side and bay-windows furnishing recesses for 
persons in hours devoted to reflection and reading. 
The hall walls were of grained oak—opening into 
double parlors, one furnished with the Anglo- 
Japanese suit, of rich hand ornamentation; the 
other, the Queen Anne style—upholstered with 
silk plush rolls—window stains to correspond. 
Back of the parlors, a library room containing a 
secretary, renaissance design with folding front, 
partitions for books and every other convenience. 
On all the windows, over heavy damask, were the 
Nottingham lace curtains, and lambrequins to har¬ 
monize. In this library room was an old family 
chair, the handiwork of a dear friend of the family. 

In the rear there was a large suite of rooms, 
but the boudoir of Vesta in beauty excelled. A 
small octagonal room, with furniture of exquisite 
workmanship; hung with delicate blue silk, covered 
with white India muslin, the walls beautifully 


36 


VESTA ; 


decorated with designs. There was also a hand¬ 
some work-table and a small piano of elaborate in¬ 
laid work, richly vieing with the large one in the 
front parlor. 

Every part of the house was richly illuminated 
with the most skillful variety of lustre, and espec¬ 
ially, the broad dining-room, reflecting a perfect as¬ 
semblage of art, in which was the massive silver 
on the side-boards, extension tables, brackets, china 
closets, etc., all hand-polished and harmonizing 
with everything else in the house. There were also 
dwarf book-cases and cabinets in each room with 
curtains suspended by brass rods covering the 
shelves only. To each private apartment, was a 
bathing-room with commodes and tubs of high-art 
pattern; towel racks, etc. All this with handsome 
paintings, scriptural and historical, imitations from 
Raphael and Canova. 

The religion of Mrs. Howard was allied to that 
of her mother. The Judge, though a strictly moral 
man, seemed to regard religion as little above pol¬ 
itics, except as it related to social virtues and civil 
government. ^ 

In the rear of the house, about two hundred 
yards off, were the famous fish-ponds, a most 
charming resort for amusement in the art of ang¬ 
ling, a favorite pastime with the Judge, who to 
this date is still led by its fascination. There is no 
field sport that takes so strong a hold as this, and 
most any one may learn to throw the leaded bait 
with graceful evolution and precision. Each mem- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


87 


ber of the family was furnished with the angler’s 
equipment: a basket, a box for fly casts, with 
hooks and silk thread. 

The ponds were filled with carp, trout and min¬ 
nows, all of which were a perfect lure to little Ollie, 
who spent the time with Aunt Tony, watching the 
floats and pulling his lines when feeling a nibble. 

Another amusement at Flora Crysta was the 
play of backgammon. This game of great an¬ 
tiquity in England is fast becoming quite popular. 
Billiards and card-playing were never introduced; 
chess, however, stood pre-eminent and possessed a 
charm for every member of the family. Even Ollie 
was fluent with its import, of its elephants, horses, 
chariots and foot soldiers as he termed them, or as 
the game runs, kings, queens, bishops, knights, cas¬ 
tles, powers, etc. The chess men of the Judge were 
of beautiful design and handed down from olden 
times. The game was conducted with an eye to im¬ 
provement. Written on the lid of the box were the 
following words of Dr. Franklin : “Life is a kind 
of chess in which we all have points to gain and 
competitors or adversaries to contend with, and in 
which there is a vast variety of good and ill events, 
that are in some degree, the effects of prudence or 
the want of it.” 


38 


VESTA ; 


CHAPTER IX. 

WAR. 

And such, as we have faintly described, was the 
home of Judge Howard. With a climate unriv¬ 
alled in salubrity, and with every charm that 
graces life mirrored in a loving family, why the tear 
that steals from the eye of the noble mother? It is 
the dew of affection that reflects memories of the 
past and distils the agony of her future as she be¬ 
holds it. 


“O were it not for this sad voice 
Stealing amid our mirth to say— 

That all in which we most rejoice, 

Ere night may be the earthworm’s prey, 

But for this bitter—only this— 

Full as the world is brimmed with bliss; 

And capable as feels my soul 
Of drawing from the depths the whole, 

I should turn earth to heaven and be-- 
If bliss makes Gods—a deity.” 

Pious, upright and sincere, Mrs. Howard was 
never disturbed by worldly desires, but love for her 
country sprang spontaneously in her heart and sor¬ 
rows over the impending war sank deep in her very 
soul; she was often seen brooding in some secret 
recess of her house over the condition of what 
must inevitably take place. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


89 


“I tell you, Judge Howard,’’ she remarked in 
great melancholy, “God is surely against us in this 
war. So far as the loss of our slaves is concerned, I 
do not give that a thought, but oh! our dear 
friends and children!” 

“Oh, fie, wife, wife,” responded the Judge, 
“shake off your old way of desponding. If you 
were as full of patriotism as you are of your religi¬ 
ous ardor, it would be better for you.” 

“Patriotism though avails but little against 
overpowering numbers.” 

“Yes! bur victory does not depend so much on 
numbers as the valor of men fighting for liberty. 

“War seldom advances, while it always men¬ 
aces, the cause of liberty and most frequently results 
in its destruction,” said Mrs. Howard. “All this 
about Southern chivalry is a vague, high-sounding 
expression, which echoes and then loses itself in the 
air; with us, it is a noble fire, but it is to wrap our 
homes in flames.” 

“Why, wife; you talk like a conquered slave. I 
am sure of our cause, and the fortune that guides 
the bark of the Confederacy. Come, here is a let¬ 
ter from Paris.” 

“A letter from my boy. Oh! God, grant me the 
news that he is safe.” 

Mrs. Howard grasped the letter, and tearing 
it open with trembling hands, read as follows: 

“In Camps, Leesburg, Ya., Oct. 2d, 1861. 
“My Dear Father and Mother: 

“The Confederates have achieved another signal victory. 
While rushing to the scene of conflict, my dear mother’s image 


40 


VESTA ; 


was before my mind and stimulated me to meet the foe. 1 felt 
her dear picture pressing my heart and it filled me with the 
loftiest patriotism. Whenever our command passes it is hailed 
with acclamations such as never greeted us before. Shouts of 
“Dixie” and “Bonnie Blue Flag” floated upon the breeze. The 
ladies everywhere showered flowers and kisses upon the boys. 
Bouquets were appended to our guns, but many a gallant son fell 
on both sides. Say to Fred’s friends he was promoted to the 
rank of captain for his gallantry. I now stand as I wish 
to do, high private , desiring no better title. Be of good 
cheer. “Yours forever, 

“Paris.” 

Mrs. Howard was overcome by this letter. 
Her voice broken by sobs, she threw 'herself upon 
her bed and, with arms upraised, poured out her 
thanks to heaven that her dear boy was still 
spared. The Judge took hold of her, saying, as he 
did so: 

“Come, come! wife, these successes will but in¬ 
flame our men to greater ones.” 

At this moment the door opened and Grandma 
walked in. The letter was read to her and the 
girls. She too, was overcome, but in a different 
spirit: 

“It grieves me to hear of such slaughter, but I 
had rather the last child and grandchild of mine 
would die than compromise their conduct in the 
battle.” 

“The perpetuity of the South demands all this,” 
said the Judge, “and I rejoice that Paris is in the 
army, and performing his part.” 

“Give me this letter, Marie, and I will frame it 
and hang it upon the wall, that it may commemo- 


or?, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


41 


rate the fulfillment of that dear boy’s promise tome 
when he bade me good-bye.” 

“Our men,” said Judge Howard, “areas invin¬ 
cible as the old Romans, and if we can recruit our 
army sufficiently, we can whip the world two to 
one.” 

“If necessary,” remarked Grandma, “we must 
yield our property, we must give up our homes to 
save the South. Why! Marie, we are infinitely su¬ 
perior in advantages to our revolutionary fathers 
and what we must bring to bear is their courage, 
zeal and their same emulation of glory.” 

“Mother, you talk bravely, and we’ll have to 
send you to the front.” 

At this moment the door bell rang, and Mrs. 
Howard was called for, leaving the Judge and 
Grandma to discuss the prospects of the Confeder¬ 
acy, and the comparative numbers of the two sides 
in the field—especially of the recent victories of the 
Federals in North Carolina, which she deplored, it 
being her own native State. 


42 


VESTA; 


CHAPTER X. 

SCENE IN THE GARDEN. 

Claude Ashton was strolling down one of the 
walks of Flora Crysta, whistling as merrily as a 
cricket in June, reveling in the soothing magic of 
the evening breeze upon his temples, and the enno¬ 
bling associations connected with his young life. 
“Cousin Claude,” as he was known generally, was 
a remarkable case, “the mere grasp of whose hand 
carried with it the pledge of frankness and friend¬ 
ship,” of an abiding sense of amiability as affexting 
as it was rare! He was the only son of Grandpa’s 
eldest daughter; his parents dying when he was 
Quite small and leaving him to his grandparents. 
Judge Howard became his guardian, adding, by 
his superior management, large sums to the vast 
estates bequeathed to him. Claude was one of the 
first to enlist in the army and no one felt surer of 
subduing the North; he even went so far as to 
wear a secession badge in New York City, for 
which he might have been endangered; but in his 
fearlessness, no one noticed it. 

In the battle of Manassas, Claude received a 
wound which forced him to get a final discharge 
from further military service. This he truly la¬ 
mented, as he was fond of camp life and made a 
gallant soldier. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


4S 


In many respects, Claude was a perfect phe¬ 
nomenon, a pleasant subject of human study. He 
felt he was born for social, not scientific ends. The 
war, however, sobered him down somewhat, and 
he realized that he could not look death in the eye 
without strange reflections and without learning 
of “what stuff it was made.” Up to the war, he 
had been nothing but a boy, but he soon assumed 
a manlier tone, and felt keenly “the full tide of hu¬ 
man existence.” 

A feeling of the comical came over Claude as he 
observed his cousin Vesta seated in a cedar arbor, 
intently engaged in reading. Stealing upon her, be 
hind the thick foliage, he exclaimed: 

“Who be ye?” 

Vesta threw back her beautiful curls and, con¬ 
cealing the book, replied: # 

“It is I, Cousin Claude; come, take a seat and 
give me all the news. I heard you whistling and 
was struck with your cat-bird ‘intervals of lun¬ 
acy.’ ” 

“Oh,” said Claude, “I always whistle as poets 
sing with no afterthought.” 

“And with the same impudence that challenges 
inquiry,” replied Vesta. 

“I must make amends to you, Cousin Vesta, for 
interrupting your meditations. Guess you were re¬ 
hearsing Fred’s old tune to you.” 

“Guess sosaid Vesta, “but his notes were not 
so aggressive as yours were last evening when you 
were singing of your Louise .” 


44 


VESTA; 


“Do hush ! how did you know I sang of her? 
Surely, walls have ears,” replied Claude. 

“You don’t know who is jealously watching 
you, and silently witnessing your intrigues with 
Miss Angelo.” 

“That’s a fact,” said Claude, “but look here, 
Coz, what she gave me;” and, drawing an exquis¬ 
ite silk handkerchief from his vest pocket, dis¬ 
played it in all its varied colors of the rainbow. 
“You bet, Coz, her heart is as big as a Greenland 
whale, for she fully divines m j friendly intent to her, 
for she knows the handsome story of my wound 
received at the battle of Manassas.” 

As Claude said these words, he drew a note 
from his pocket and said to Vesta: 

“Only behold—but not for your sweet eyes—a 
secret in this it would never do to divulge. 

“Fie, Claude,” said Vesta, “you surely will not 
withhold all this from me. I know there is some 
irresistible bait in that note for you.” 

“You don’t know my girl, Coz; you should view 
her through an opera glass before forming your 
opinions.” 

“Well,” responded Vesta, “I have savage doubts 
about any one who acts as she does. There may be 
redeeming traits in her, but my knowledge has to 
be greatly increased to discover the good—but the 
note; Claude, let me read the note.” 

“Well, if I must, I must, so here she goes,” said 
Claude, “but mind, keep dark.” 

Opening the note, Vesta read as follows: 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


45 


‘My Darling: 

“I send you the promised handkerchief which you pressed 
to your heart last Thursday night. Please erase my name from 
it lest some of your prudish relatives find me out. You term 
me a serpent, which, you say, means an enchanter. I have no 
resentment to offer to this, or even to the kiss stolen in the 
violence of your inclinations to me. Don’t fail to come to the 
the theatre Friday evening, when you can escort me home, as 
I have something to tell you of your supposed rival. 

“Your own devoted, 

“Louise.” 

At this,Vesta looked blushingly into Claude’s 
face and taking hold of his hand, said tenderly: 

“Why, Claude, you are surely not yielding to 
this false girl. The sentiments of this note appeal 
only to vulgar minds, of which, dear Claude, yours 
is incapable. Can you descend to a level with such 
a character? Shame! Shame!” 

“Come, say no more, young Vesuvius; send 
forth no more fire at me and I’ll give up my Louise, 
and send deputations to the fair girl, demanding 
from her my solitaire, and substituting iron and 
brass in the place of it, for it will take both metals 
to break with her after what has passed between 
us. I’ll tell her, however, it is the decree of Cousin 
Vesta and the solemn edict of Flora Cry^sta.” 

“Tell her this, Claude, or any thing else, that 
will break her influence over you, and the taint im¬ 
parted to your young life, full of deadly conse¬ 
quences, if not nipped in the bud.” 

“Cousin,you are a fine logician; it is as hard to 
resist you , as it is to resist the transcendent beauty 


46 


vesta ; 


of Miss Angelo, for let me tell you there are some 
sweet memories of Louise, so sweetly pathetic 
that they ‘go as right to the heart’ as they came 
from it.” 

“And yet,” said Vesta, “you felt a profound 
disgust for her in all she uttered, and you know 
you did.” 

“Well, yes;” replied Claude dubiously, “it is 
one of the marvels of the heart, this sorcery which 
a pretty woman weaves around it, giving a phan¬ 
tasmal Venus to their arms and addling a man’s 
brains beyond recovery. But let’s drop this sub¬ 
ject. What are you reading, Coz? I discovered you 
were very intent upon it.” 

“I was glancing over a work here by Miss 
Browning, the lustre and nobility of her character, 
etc.” 

“Miss Browning has fine powers, but not the 
condensing powers of my Louise has she, who, as 
DeKray says, is equal to a hydraulic press.” 

“But hush, Claude! such levity is ridiculous,” 
said Vesta. “Look ! there’s a horse at the gate.” 

At this moment an elegant gentleman alighted 
and entered the yard. 

“There’s Fred, by George,” said Claude, and 
hastening to meet him, led him to the arbor, where 
Vesta stood blushing and confused. 

“A pleasant greeting to you all,” said the gen¬ 
tleman. Extending her hand, Vesta cordially wel¬ 
comed and addressed Capt. Lamar by his 
title. 


new 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


47 


I have heard/’ said she, “of your promotion 
and really congratulate the Confederacy on the 
honor of your acceptance.” 

“Thank you, Miss Vesta, I have no higher am¬ 
bition than the grateful return of appreciation you 
express, or rather convey to me this evening.” 

Capt. Lamar’s heart trembled with delight as 
he beheld Vesta, though the words of love were at 
that moment withheld. To her, the flowers 
around were endued with new fragrance and 
beauty, in the presence of her friend, as she then 
termed him. He had indeed been a friend in the 
past. 

A moment of calm fell upon the two, when 
Vesta remarked that they would hasten to convey 
the intelligence of Capt. Lamar’s arrival to her 
mother, as she was anxious to see him and hear all 
about Paris. Claude descried Mrs. Howard on 
the lower terrace of the yard, conversing with visit¬ 
ors, and apprised her of the news in store for her; 
she excused herself and hastened to join the crowd 
in her parlor, congratulating the Captain as Vesta 
had done. With his accustomed modesty, he ac¬ 
knowledged the compliment, and then gave to the 
family a full detail of the events of war, the con¬ 
duct of Paris in camps and on the field, especially of 
the heroic act of having planted the colors of his 
regiment on a point in the midst of the fire of battle. 

“This act alone, madam, of which you should 
feel proud, covered him with an immortal glory,” 
said the Captain. 


48 


VESTA I 


The Judge was delighted to hear so favorably 
from his soldier boy. In a laughing mood, he re¬ 
marked : 

“Tell him, Captain, to give the Yankees hell and 
a heap of it.” 

“I beg of j^ou, Judge Howard,” said Mrs. How¬ 
ard, “not to send such a message.” 

Capt. Lamar laughed outright. 

“This spirit, madame, is inseparable from our 
natures in war. And even with our best generals, 
it is hard to resist the temptation to profanity. 
The Judge, therefore, is excusable, and I will bear 
his injunction to Paris most assuredly.” 

“I do not like such language,” replied Mrs. 
Howard, “it only agitates matters, kindles ani¬ 
mosities, and does no good.” 

“It is tolerable on both sides,” said Judge How¬ 
ard, and only gives a little more force to the exi¬ 
gencies that call it forth.” 

“Some of our most profane men in camps are 
pre-eminent in noble qualities and manly virtues 
which give dignity to human nature,” remarked 
Capt. Lamar. 

“I do not wish to curse anv one, even in my 
heart,” said Mrs. Howard; “even towards the North 
our bitterest enemies at this time, the aspiration of 
my heart is ‘Father, forgive them ; they know not 
what they do.’ This is what I enjoin upon m3’ dear 
boy, and this is what I desire Capt. Lamar to bear 
to him.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


49 


“By all means, Mrs. Howard, I will do as yon 
bid me, and I know that he will welcome with rap¬ 
ture any message from so good a mother as he 
deems you to be.” 

At this moment the bell rang again and com¬ 
pany was announced in the front parlor. 

Mrs. Howard excused herself, saying that she 
would leave Vesta to entertain the Captain, and re¬ 
quested her to conduct him through the vast labv- 
rinth of flowers that she knew he would really en¬ 
joy after being in camps so long and deprived of 
such luxuries. Vesta arose and Claude was in¬ 
vited to join them, but at that moment was re¬ 
minded of his engagement with the veteran bird 
catcher for a hunt that afternoon. So bidding 
Fred an affectionate adieu, he departed, casting, as 
he left, a sly glance at Vesta, saying to one side: 

“Oh! ho ! is it you? Good-bye!” 

Vesta made no reply but passed on into the 
yard. Alone with Frederick Lamar, Vesta never 
looked more beautiful. Her dress was simple. 
There stood her lover in the bloom and radiance of 
her charm; that soul in her eyes worth the rest of 
her loveliness. If anything could have charmed 
away the melancholy of the moment to Frederick, 
it would have been her appearance, but what was 
in store for him? He knew not. They walked on 
in silence for a moment, gliding on from one terrace 
to another until they had reached the most seques¬ 
tered spot of the vast labyrinth of trees and flowers. 
Capt. Lamar felt he would brave everything and 


60 


VESTA; 

make known his devotion to her—the absorbing 
passion of his whole life, but he felt he was taking 
advantage of her courtesy to him, and for a mo¬ 
ment hesitated. At length, recovering his tourage, 
he said to her : 

“What, Miss Vesta, would you have me bear to 
Paris for you?” 

“Alas!” Captain, I know not, I would have you 
bear a sister’s prayers for his safety, and speedy re¬ 
turn to us all.” 

“But would you not send to him a gem from 
this yard with some sweet emblem ?” 

Clipping a small sprig of cypress from its pa¬ 
rent stem, she said: 

“Take this, tell him to treasure this as typical 
of my thoughts when thinking of him in battle.” 

“I believe, Miss Vesta, it was Apollo who was 
changed into a cypress tree, and hence it is regarded 
as a fatal tree and used at funerals; could you not 
send something a little more cheering in emblem.’ 

At this moment, viewing a crocus, he presented 
it to Vesta, saying: 

“I present you this.”. 

“This though does not apply to Paris, because he 
has never been in love,”—but here she stopped sud¬ 
denly, lest Capt. Lamar impugned her motives into 
trying to extort from him its emblem. 

“Youknow,’’said he,“that Crocus was a youth 
who was consumed by the ardor of his love, and 
was afterwards converted into this flower, which 
bears his name. I am no flower, but the ardor 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


51 


of mv devotion to you , it is not possible to con¬ 
ceal.” 

Vesta accepted the flower, and quickly plucking 
a heliotrope, presented it to him, commenting on its 
fragrance and beauty, as if trying to evade a 
knowledge of the flame in Capt. Lamar’s heart. 

“Listen, Miss Vesta, I shall soon be hurried 
.back to the dark scenes of war, but I cannot leave 
without one word of encouragement from your 
sweet lips. Vesta will you say one word in return 
for my long, true, deep love?” 

“Frederick, I am no coquette, you know I 
could never encourage any young man against my 
father’s wishes, for love implies marriage as I un¬ 
derstand it.” 

“Then you mean you cannot love without his 
consent.” 

“At these words Vesta buried her face in her 
handkerchief and gave free vent to the tears she 
could not repress. This greatly embarrassed Capt. 
Lamar whose high sense of honor for the moment 
checked his emotions. Falling on his knees, he 
begged Vesta to pardon him. 

“Listen once more, my adored girl,” said he in 
tones of sweetest melody, “my life is entwined 
with yours forever. These are my intentions, to 
live for you or to die for you.” 

Vesta could say nothing, she assured Capt. La¬ 
mar of her unfaltering friendship and begged of 
him to love her as a sister. 


52 


VESTA ; 


“It is impossible,” said he, “sooner could I di¬ 
vert the course of planets than change my devotion 
to you. The waters of life maybe dried up, but 
my love is constant and as pure as heaven.’’ 

The two stood there face to face, each imbued 
with love for the other; the fresh air and enchant¬ 
ing scenery, the lovely flowers and singing birds 
were all for the moment forgotten; neither the 
splendor of the roses, nor the music of the fount¬ 
ains could steal their hearts from the all absorb¬ 
ing passion— love. 

The moment was fast approaching when he 
could see her no more, or see her, perhaps, the bride 
of another man; to him every second was an age 
of suspense. The sun was fast sinking, at last it 
was gone and one lone star appeared; pointing to 
it he said: 

“Vesta, behold that bright star, and remember 
that by all that it reflects, I am yours, and as long 
as that star beams over my pathway, I shall cling 
to the hope of winning you to my bosom; when 
that star fades, my hopes die with it. In a mo¬ 
ment, I shall have said farewell! I may be forgot¬ 
ten, but when this moment is recalled, think of the 
blight to my fondest hopes and wonder not at an 
untimely end.” 

Vesta’s e3^es met his in melanchoh^ tenderness 
and conveyed more than words. 

“Frederick!” 

“Vesta!” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


53 


With fondness they pressed each other’s hands. 
Capt. Lamar bowed to kiss her, but she mod¬ 
estly withdrew. He again pressed her hand and 
kissed it in spite of her resistance. Then turning in 
the direction of his fiery and impatient war-steed, 
awaiting his gallant master at the gate, he drove 
off, waving his hands as he did so, to the young 
ladies in the grove. 

Vesta, assuming an air of unusual cheerfulness, 
returned to the house, where she joined in the even¬ 
ing repast, after which she retired to her own 
room to pursue her reflections and first emotions 
as a heroine. 


54 


VESTA ; 


CHAPTER XI. 

FREDERICK LAMAR. 

Let us look back to the early life of Frederick 
Lamar and his first meeting with Vesta Howard. 
He was a native of Virginia; his ancestors were of 
French descent. They were also among those who 
opposed the arbitrary measures of the mother 
country. He was the only son, with but one sister, 
of a distinguished navy officer; his parents dying 
when he was quite young, the two children were 
adopted by an aunt, who resided in London, but 
who came over to America in order that she might 
educate the children under a republican form of 
government, at their father’s request, sending Fred¬ 
erick to Yale, and Pauline, the young girl, to the 
famous institution of the Catholics in New York. 
Young Lamar graduated high in his class and 
went into the study of law, but the war breaking 
out, he returned to Virginia and at once enlisted in 
the Confederate army, where he abated neither 
effort nor hope. 

This aunt, Mrs. Byrd, inherited great wealth, 
besides a partnership share in a banking house in 
London. She received a large share on the death 
of her husband. This lady was distinguished for 
her elegant taste, but cared very little for luxury 
and splendor. Her whole soul was absorbed in her 
adopted children, 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


55 


Frederick early imbibed his aunt’s idea and be¬ 
came in every sense, a most polished Virginian. 

He idolized his sister, preferring her company 
to that of all others, and sought to mould her 
character by the accomplished model before her 
in his aunt. What, perhaps, was most remarkable 
about him, was the harmonious blending of manly 
elements. To his ardor and intellectual force, he 
added a devotion to rectitude and purity of char¬ 
acter. Tall, handsome, loving and generous, his 
winning blue eyes fascinated every one, as they 
beamed in regal strength, grandeur and tenderness. 
His love reached a height, which was rare and in¬ 
tense, and unalleviated in its intensity. 

Pauline, educated in a cloister, returned to the 
world a creature of “virginal strength” and up¬ 
rightness and, at times, of religious enthusiasm. She 
too, was possessed of intellectual attainments, 
a great decision of will and was highly susceptible 
to romantic feelings. Her life was made joyous by 
her aunt, and all that wealth, flowers, marble 
statues, music, poetry and art could bestow, at all 
tfmes surrounded her young life after leaving school. 
She never dreamed that her father had left her pen¬ 
niless upon dying. Frederick knew his condition, 
and early resolved to become self-sustaining, loy¬ 
ally, however, accepting his aunt’s benefactions, 
determining to return all her kindness as circum¬ 
stances enabled him to do so, having that master¬ 
ing spirit of independence which characterized hi>s 
noble ancestry. 


56 


VESTA ; 


Pauline was regarded as a “Lioness” among 
girls, who drew this sobriquet from her indomi¬ 
table will, and brilliant repartee. She was a 
charming brunette, the opposite of Frederick. Her 
classical features, the delicate and very light olive 
tint of her complexion, her long lashes and lus¬ 
trous eyes giving forth all the varieties of expres¬ 
sion, would class her among the highest types of 
American beauty, and yet she was born of pure 
French blood. What wonder that people every¬ 
where became inspired with her charms, sang of 
her, raved about her, or even went so far as to sui¬ 
cide for her? 

Two years previous to the Civil War, Vesta 
Howard was taken with her mother to the White 
Sulphur Springs in Virginia, in company with other 
friends, to spend a portion of the summer. While 
there, they were thrown in company with Mrs. 
Byrd, and her adopted children. It was then the 
first sight of Vesta fell like a rapturous vision to 
Frederick Lamar. Mrs. Howard was attracted by 
the courtly manners and charming conversation of 
these people, and it was not long before an inti¬ 
macy sprang up which soon ripened into endearing 
friendship; especially were the two girls, Vesta and 
Pauline, mutually attracted to each other, and in 
that romantic retreat they passed many social mo¬ 
ments together, often uniting in music, poetry, danc¬ 
ing, drawing, excursions and various other pleasures 
too numerous to mention. The homage paid to 
the beauty and accomplishments of the two girls 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


57 


was universal; the one gentle and beautiful as an 
angel, the other handsome and dignified as a queen; 
both all life, all joy, they were everywhere greeted 
as some celestial visitants when they appeared in 
company at the Springs. 

Pauline’s proud spirit, was softened by her 
association with Vesta, while Vesta’s timidity 
was overcome somewhat by trust in Pauline’s 
courage and self-confidence. 

At the hotel one day, an old gentleman ac¬ 
costed Pauline, and placing his hand upon her 
head, remarked : 

“This girl came of an illustrious family; I knew 
her father, a navy officer and highly esteemed. She 
can ever find in Virginia friends who are ready to 
serve her in any capacity.” 

Such remarks would have pleased ordinary 
girls, but Pauline, in her usual manner, replied: 

“I hope the good people of Virginia will never 
be called on for any sacrifice in my behalf, but, I 
assure you, sir, I do appreciate your compliment to 
my father and will long remember this.” 

At the Springs were many persons of doubtful 
character, among them, young men who were 
fond of smart sayings. One accosted the girls one 
morning as they came in, very familiarly reproach¬ 
ing them for having slept so late. 

“Oh,” said Pauline, “don’t be surprised at our 
sleeping while you are about, for your audacity 
would produce a quietus that would put anybody 
to sleep.” 


58 


VESTA ; 


Vesta felt the necessity of checking such famili¬ 
arity on so short an aquaintance and really was 
glad at the remark of Pauline, but she had not the 
courage to retort. 

Some strange gentleman at the table turned 
hastily and said to another : 

‘‘Do you know the young girl who replied to 
that pert young man?” 

“Yes; what do you think of her?” 

“Oh, she is a beauty and as smart as she is 
pretty. What magnificent hair! Is she French?” 

“She is a Virginian.” 

“And her name is—” 

“Pauline Lamar.” 

“Oh! I have heard of her and I have met her 
brother who is just splendid. My good friend, as 
you know Lamar, I wish you would introduce me 
to him.” 

“Why, I have only been with him three or four 
times; but you know that even this short acquaint¬ 
ance will warrant my doing so.” 

At this instant Frederick Lamar entered the 
dining-room and taking his seat by the girls, 
bowed respectfully to the gentleman across the 
table. After dinner was over, the young man pre¬ 
sented his acquaintance to Frederick. Through 
this acquaintance, Albert de Villifort was thrown 
in company with the young girls. Being a lively, 
gay young Frenchman, he added greatly to their 
pleasure, conversing with each in his native tongue, 
and romping with them over the grounds enclosing 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS 


59 


the Springs with as much pleasure as if he had been 
a boy, suited to their ages. 

“You must know,” said he to Pauline, “I am 
deeply in love with you and I intend waiting for 
you. Will you have me?” 

“Why, most assuredly,” replied Pauline. 

“Well, then, hold to this promise and hencefor¬ 
ward I shall devote myself to }^ou, and I will yield 
the most absolute obedience to you—bear witness, 
Miss Vesta—and now let us seal our pledges with a 
kiss.” 

“A kiss! you may kiss my foot, if you please; our 
courtship must be conducted on better terms, sir.” 

“Well, come, my sweet little ‘Lioness,’ don’t 
let’s quarrel in our first interview of love. I will 
kiss your foot and make friends.” 

“Do hush your gab, mon ami , or I’ll come the 
Latin on you, nemo me impune lacessit ; mind or 
I’ll tell auntie on you.” 

“Satis verborum —let’s play draughts awhile 
and be on good terms, Miss Pauline.” 

“All right, get our partners.” 

Frederick came in about this time and the girls 
entered into a regular frolic over the draught boards. 

The young man, who had just come to the 
Springs, attracted considerable attention, but 
everybody had come to the conclusion that he be¬ 
longed to no inferior condition of life. 

“You are right in thinking so,” said one man to 
another. “He is honorably connected and con¬ 
ducts himself well on all occasions,” 


60 


VESTA; 


And everyone regretted his departure as he had 
made so much merriment for young and old. 

After remaining at the Springs for a few weeks, 
Mrs. Byrd proposed to Mrs. Howard to accom¬ 
pany her to Richmond on a visit to her relatives 
there, which she pleasantly agreed to do. 

It must be remembered that Mrs. Byrd was a 
near relative of the Hon. William Byrd, whose ele¬ 
gant mansion is situated on the left bank of the 
James river, a man we recall in connection with 
the old Revolution and also with the late Civil War, 
as his same residence was occupied by the Federal 
troops. He was the founder of Richmond. 

The city was viewed in all its bold, yet broken 
outlines. At that time, the legislature and politics 
drew the most brilliant intellects of the South to¬ 
gether. It was also the resort of navy officers and 
their families. It afterwards became the capitol of 
the Confederacy and, sad to record, a scene of carn¬ 
age and destruction from the fact it was “the key 
to the cause of war.” 

Frederick conducted the little girls to the capi¬ 
tol, a superb building, located in the midst of 
shady lawns and sparkling fountains. Vesta was 
especially charmed with the monument erected to 
Washington, placed in the center of the building 
and bearing the inscription : 

“The General Assembly of the Commonwealth of Virginia have 
caused this statue to be erected as a monument of affection and 
giatitude to George Washington, who, uniting the endowments 
of the hero with the virtues of the patriot, and exerting both 
in the establishment of liberty, has rendered his name dear to 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


61 


his fellow-countrymen and given the world an immortal exam¬ 
ple of true glory. Done in the year of Christ, one thousand, 
seven hundred and eighty-eight, and in the year of the Com¬ 
monwealth, the twelfth.” 

Frederick reminded the girls it was here Aaron 
Burr was tried for treason; here LaFavette was 
welcomed by his old friends in the cabinet and 
field; here the old stone house, a relic of the past, 
and the old Parish church, where a convention 
was held to settle the question of peace or war be¬ 
tween the colonies and the crown, and from which, 
the State of Virginia received the name of Old Do¬ 
minion. 

The spirit of Patrick Henry- was called up and 
seemed to give strains of eloquence in the words: 
“Give me liberty or give me death.” 

Frederick accompanied the girls in a skiff and 
ventured a small distance on the James, but the 
current becoming so rapid, Vesta became frightened 
and they were forced to return. 

After a few days, the company concluded to 
visit the Natural Bridge, leaving the loveliest city in 
the South and being fully impressed with its social 
pleasures never to be forgotten. Mrs. Howard 
became overwhelmed with wonder over the Nat¬ 
ural Bridge and the steep declivity of this wonder¬ 
ful Ijreak in nature. 

“This Thesbia, as it is termed, appalls my very 
sight.” 

“You have not the courage,” said Frederick, 
“of Miss Randolph, the young Virginia belle, in her 


62 


VESTA ; 


day. In a party of young people, a gentleman 
pointing to that dizzy brink, expressed a doubt 
of any one being able to reach it. A gay laugh 
echoed his words—Miss Randolph made a bound, 
and in a few moments, stood erect upon its pin¬ 
nacle. Death seemed inevitable, but in a few mo¬ 
ments she came down amidst tears and appeals 
from her friends, who every moment expected to 
see her dashed hopelessly into the depths below.” 

“That was surely a daring act, and one that 
I’d never attempt,” said Vesta. 

“Nor I,” rejoined Pauline, “but if Vesta was 
perched up there, guess Fred would venture to res¬ 
cue her. Wouldn’t you, buddie? Even if you had 
to make a lover’s leap.” 

“Guess I would” said Frederick. 

“Thank you, Frederick, but I guess you will 
never be called on for such a sacrifice, as I am not 
the eagle to soar so high.” 

Fred pointed out the place reached by Mr. 
Piper, also the one below reached b\ r Washington. 

“These scenes furnish abundant and diverse 
subjects for the painter,” said Mrs. Howard. “It 
is true that our sunny land has many strange won¬ 
ders yet unexplored, that would challenge the ad¬ 
miration of the world. Nature does not repeat 
herself in scenery any more than in the human face, 
and this is fully demonstrated in our travels so 
far.” 

At this moment a messenger appeared, bear¬ 
ing to Mrs. Howard a telegram from the Springs, 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


68 

calling her back. She handed it to Mrs. Byrd. 
They agreed to return at once, but not without 
regrets, especially from the girls, whose visit to 
these places of resort, seemed like a brief, but beau¬ 
tiful vision. They returned to their hotel, with a 
view of making an early start to the Springs the 
next morning. 

Just as the inmates were settled in a calm re¬ 
pose, they were awakened by an unusual light 
through the windows. The hotel was ablaze—the 
fire originating adjoining the very apartment in 
which the two girls slept. Vesta was first awak¬ 
ened by the flames, sprang out of the bed, called 
Pauline, and rushed to her mother’s room and 
found egress impossible. She called loudly for help, 
which aroused Frederick, who was asleep in a room 
near by. Pauline screamed and begged of Frederick 
to save her aunt}% when suddenly, he rushed to he*- 
window, seized each one in his arms with superhu¬ 
man strength, and conveyed them safely through 
the fire into the yard. The hotel was consumed, 
but the people were saved. 

Vesta, in a snow-white gown, threw herself 
into Frederick’s arms and kissed him for saving her 
dear mother. 

“I would not take worlds for that kiss,” he 
thought to himself. “I would rush through fields 
of blood for its repetition—and yet, she is but a 
child.” Yet he could not restrain the hope that 
some day he might claim her as his own. 


64 


VESTA; 


“She is the sweetest object^ on earth. Indeed, 
she is an angel, and oh, that snow-white attire! 
was there ever anything that has formed in me 
such a life of dreams and such a paradise of real¬ 
ity?” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


65 


CHAPTER XII. 

LOUISE ANGELO. 

While scenes were enacting in the war for the 
protection of the South, there were demoralizing 
agencies in progress at home, which shook the foun¬ 
dations of everything elevating to woman. These 
evils were confined to a certain class, and mothers, 
whose sons were filled with ardor, and who were 
often exposed to hardships and dangers, beheld with 
aching hearts those baneful influences. This class 
lived in a perfect round of entertainments and gay- 
ety. It is always so in war, affording to a few, 
means and resources for a gratification of their 
propensities and passions. 

There was a class of men strolling about twirl¬ 
ing their moustaches, smoking and drinking, while 
the soldiers were inhaling the smoke of the cannon 
and dust of the battle-field. It was often shocking 
to see these “brass-button ,’’ bullet-proof men urg¬ 
ing “recruits for the army,” wielding the two-edged 
sword of the tongue, and the first upon news of 
victory, to ery shouts for Dixie and the glorious South , 
cursing the Yankees in a most impudent manner. 
How many women were dragged into the whirl¬ 
pool of their folly and dissipation. 

Louise Angelo was a girl who yielded to these 
seductions, leading a life of guilty indulgence and 


66 


VESTA; 


pleasure, viewing society only in its mirthful 
aspects. She belonged to that group of sensuous 
creatures, with all the arts and wiles of a Cleopa¬ 
tra, weaving her endless snares of • fascination 
in the “golden haze, ” which creates the atmosphere 
she breathes. 

She was a girl of masculine strength, even main¬ 
taining her mastery with men against all antago¬ 
nism. An object of contention and prize, she 
caused feelings of jealousy, which, in several in¬ 
stances, ended fearfully. 

One evening Louise was seated in her own 
room, folded in a loose wrapper, dazzling like a 
gorgeous vision in the conscious greatness of her 
own beauty, and animated by some prospective 
pleasure in store for her. She had been reading 
“Nouvelle Eloise” without the least blush of shame 
upon her face, a work presented her by a young 
man of the army. 

After sitting there awhile, she arose, walked to 
the mirror and gazed upon her reflected charms; 
drawing a ring from her finger in which the dia¬ 
mond, ruby and emerald contended for magnifi¬ 
cence, she said to herself: 

“What does it matter that I am not born a 
queen? Am I not the empress of hearts devoted 
to me? What more could I desire from the maj¬ 
esty of royalty? This ring is the pledge of love. 
No one knows better than myself how this pledge 
is preserved. 


OR, THEHIDDEN CROSS. 


67 


Then she looked down upon her wrapper of 
dark crimson velvet, quilted in black satin, from 
which was suspended at the bosom, an elegant 
chain. A long, black veil was ready to throw over* 
her entire person at a moment’s notice. Just then 
she heard a gentle tap at her window. Looking 
out with her usual excitement, she beheld her para¬ 
mour, Warren DeKray. 

“Louise,” said he, softly, “I am ready for our 
moonlight promenade, but be easy lest we disturb 
the family.” 

She descended from the window, and soon the 
two were perambulating the mazy walks around 
her home. 

“I bless heaven,” said DeKray, “for the prec¬ 
ious gift of a beautiful woman to man.” 

“As much,” replied Louise, “as man is to 
woman, as music soothes the soul, so the presence of 
one we love cheers the heart. This spot, Warren, is 
dear to me because of its associations, which fill me 
with emotions of pleasure inexpressible.” 

“The dream of my life, darling, is realized in 
you, for from my earliest boyhood, I have been 
looking for a Louise.” 

“But, Warren,” rejoined Louise, “you do not 
mean to marry me, for you keep me in suspense 
beyond endurance.” 

• “I cannot, my sweet, for reasons you cannot 
quite understand, marry anyone at this time.” 

“It is all right anyway,” said Louise, “so long 
aS no other woman can defraud me of your love, 


68 


VESTA; 


which I hope will bear me through the starry ages 
of eternity. 0 , Warren, I conjure you to beware of 
any one who would share your love for me. Would 
that this world had no other lure to you but your 
own Louise.’’ 

“Aye! you are mine, Louise; I am solely yours. 
In the name of heaven, what can I do but love 
you. This my end, my errand. Thou knowest I 
love thee, worship thee.” 

“But, Warren, I sometimes fear you will leave 
me loveless and lonely. Then I will go mad or die. 
How glad I am when moonlight approaches, for 
the world is blank between stars and away from 
you.” 

“Blessings on those sweet eyes, Louise. By 
heaven! they might win the glance of—” 

“Hush! I hear a noise. It is mother calling the 
servant.” 

“Oh! to lay my cheek upon thy sweet and 
swelling bosom thus; 

“Where midst the beauty of thy breast sits love— 

******* 

To reap the red budding kisses from thy lips 

Delights me more than ail that earth can lend.” 

“What can slake the memory of my shame, 
Warren?” 

We do not desire, my darling, to quench the 
thirst of love. 

Thy sweet words to-night fall upon me as 
moonbeams do upon these flowers, the immortal 
melody of heaven wrought in each tone.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


69 


“Foolish girl! come, it is getting oh towards 
day. When will this meeting end? You see the 
wine you gave me has made me drunk, and kisses 
are to be my conductors home. So good night!” 

With these words, Warren tottered along, and 
dizzily opening the gate, vanished from Louise, 
leaving her alone in the moonlight to dwell upon 
her own guilt. 

“Fond fool! to love a sparkling eye, 

And think that eye to truth was dear; 

To pass a passing wanton’s sigh 
And melt beneath a wanton’s eye.” 

0, deluded girl, where hast thou been roaming? 
Where shadows veil thy young life and fiends of vice 
and misery entice thee onward to destruction. Thy 
way is dark. What light can dispel the gloom? 
Even the moon hides behind the clouds and weeps 
in pity over thy shame. Allured by the false vows 
of man, thy love, like the ore of the Lagerian mine, 
shall soon be gone and nothing but vain dreams 
left behind. 

Alone, Louise held in her hand another beauti¬ 
ful gift from her enchanted lover. At the sight of 
those rays sparkling in their radiance, she felt for a 
moment some compunctions of conscience, which 
were easily resisted. Enervated by the evils of a 
voluptuous life and abandoned to all its allure¬ 
ments, it is no wonder that such men as Warren 
DeKray found favor in her sight. His admiration 
for her was anything but sincere or real, though her 


70 


VESTA; 


dazzling beauty drew him to her feet, and the influ¬ 
ence over his life was baneful indeed. He knew 
he felt all this, and yet, he could not resist it. Side 
by side with a wayward, fanciful dream, a torrent 
of intense passion had seized upon him, and this 
must be satiated and despised before he could 
keep from her presence. In his relations with this 
sorceress, life was given little promise in the high 
qualities which distinguished him. Even in the 
midst of his guilt, do we discover his admiration of 
virtue and moral rectitude in woman. He said: 

“If ever God has instilled the love of virtue in 
an} r man, he has instilled it in me. If I ever marry, 
it must be a pure woman, indeed, who is to be the 
wife of my bosom.” 

At this moment, Cousin Claude stepped in, and 
in conversation with him, he said: 

“You know what the manner of my life has been. 
I have lived in sin, but I hate a false woman.” 

It was Major DeKray’s lofty conception of 
the position and destiny of woman which first 
impressed Claude with an admiration for him, and 
this impression had matured into a strong friendr 
ship between the two. Major DeKray had con¬ 
fided his attentions to Louise, and at length, had 
led Claude to visit her with him. 

“She is a girl that can neither be managed nor 
frightened,” said he,“ and faces all my threats 
with unscrupulous coolness. You see from this 
how difficult it will be to break with her.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


71 


“Well,” said Claude, “Major, you have armed 
her with a golden arrow, and mind, old fellow, 
she’ll kill you.” 

“It will be a fatal thing for you, Claude, if she 
entangles you, so mind; she is holding you in re- 
sevre, as Venus did Adonis.” 

“It would indeed be a wretched thing for me,” 
replied Claude, “but you see I am sworn, and as 
I sometimes keep my oath, guess she’ll never entan¬ 
gle me in her net. I tell you she is worse than wine 
to the brain and under the spell she has over you, 
I’d lose both soul and sense.” 

“Yes, this is so; but I hope I am not the dog 
that licks the sore I die of,” mirthfully replied 
DeKray. 

“If love be blinded, it must be by tears in my 
case,” said Claude, “and I think she is too flinty to 
shed tears. She’s as hard as a brick-bat.” 

“You are right, Claude. True love is to be 
found in holy life. It is of ‘deathless state;’ a high, 
uplifted life.” 

“You reason like a philosopher. Come, let us 
quit this theme. I have a note for you, inviting 
you to drink tea at Flora Crysta next Thursday 
evening, ancf hope you can accept as uncle desires 
you to do.” 

“It will afford me unspeakable pleasure,” said 
DeKray, “and you can assure the Judge of my ac¬ 
ceptance.” 

Claude left the Major, and alone, he remarked 
to himself: 


72 


VESTA; 


“A note to join the family at Flora C^sta. 
Why, this embraces those charming young ladies ; 
but I will go—I will meet Vesta. Heart be still. 
What a contrast between women! Why, hell 
would laugh to learn I had made love to Lou¬ 
ise Angelo, but matters are as I meant them. 
Ye stars, which, as Byron says, are the poetry 
of heaven, shine on and imbue me with thy 
purity. I will go to-night and prepare Louise for 
my visit, and if she revoltsjat this, I’ll curse her and 
be off forever.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


78 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE TEA GATHERING AT FLORA CRYSTA. 

“Wife,” said Judge Howard, “I wish you and 
Vesta to be able to entertain a few friends to-mor¬ 
row evening, among whom is Major Warren De- 
Kray of the Confederate army, a young man of 
high birth and possessed of more wealth than any 
young man in the South; and you, Vesta, keep up 
your most charming manner. Invite the girls and 
Claude to come up and assist you in entertaining 
the gentlemen.” 

“Really, father, I cannot affect anything more 
than my usual deportment to strangers, but I will 
do all in my power to make matters agreeable to 
your guests, of course.” 

“Vesta is just that way,” said Mrs. Howard, 
“She never was known to be demonstrative to 
strangers, or to intoxicate anyone with praises or 
flattery.” 

“I have once met Major DeKray in the yard, 
however,” said Vesta,“and found him really an ele¬ 
gant-looking gentleman, and being a friend of 
Claude, I’ll help mother in getting up a nice past¬ 
time for you all.” 

“I’ll be ready to begin preparations early to¬ 
morrow morning.” 

“And I’ll go and inform Aunt Katrine and 
Happie. You know we can’t bridle Aunt Hap’s 


74 


VESTA ; 


tongue on such occasions, and she is always needed 
to give zest to thenl. ,, 

They all concurred in arrangements for the tea 
gathering, and set to work embellishing everything 
in the great parlors and dining-room. Many of 
our readers can recall such occasions in old South¬ 
ern families. At this time the effects of war had 
not been felt as far south as Georgia. There was 
a feeling of security* in property calculated to mis¬ 
lead the mind as to the real condition of affairs, but 
yet, while Judge Howard was still in the plentitude 
of his wealth, there was a discontent, a feeling of 
“what comes next?” preying upon him he could 
not resist. 

Garlands of flowers were entwined in the vases; 
there was a general scattering of roses as if at some 
Persian festival, till every place was as fragrant as 
if the sweets of “Khoten” had passed through the 
house, which was brilliantly illuminated by mag¬ 
nificent chandeliers suspended from the walls, 
yielding the brightness of a noonday sun. Wines, 
creams and confections were arranged, with the 
more substantial eatables, in dishes of silver and 
costly porcelain. The girls had placed a bouquet 
of red, white and blue at each plate. 

At the appointed hour, Major DeKray and the 
other invited guests drove up to Flora Crysta. Pass¬ 
ing through the enchanted grounds, he called atten¬ 
tion to the fact that they were ever open to the Con¬ 
federate soldiery. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


75 


“If any thing could charm away the melancholy 
of the wounded, it would certainly be this atmos¬ 
phere of delights, so refreshing after the toil and 
hardships of war,” remarked one. 

“Behold, too, the romantic scenes in the dis¬ 
tance, encircling this spot,” said Major DeKray. 

At this moment Judge Howard met his guests 
and conducted them into the house, where in the f ront 
parlor, they were presented to his wife, Claude and 
the young ladies, not forgetting dear old Grandma, 
who was the centre of respect and admiration. 
The whole party seemed in their liveliest mood, 
with a free range of thought and sociability. The 
young ladies were charmingly dressed in ante-bel¬ 
lum attire. Happie wore an ecru etamine, striped 
with moss-green velvet, showered with golden 
threads; Katrine, a heliotrope silk, with sweet 
forget-me-nots upon her fair bosom; Vesta, an ele¬ 
gant light-grounded silk, with the faintest shade 
of rosebuds, mingling profusely in brocade. Dia¬ 
monds glistened in profusion on her neck and arms. 
The appearance of each, whose deportment was 
that of queenly beauty, was like a vision to the 
guests. Happie was invited to the piano, where she 
opened the evening with selections from the classic 
and modern authors. After which Vesta was called 
on to sing. This she did, breathing music from her 
very soul, and exalting her guests to regions of 
love and purity. The tall, martial form of DeKray 
stood bending over her. So soft, so sweet was her 
voice, so graceful was her every movement at the 


76 


VESTA ; 


piano, that he imagined her a celestial visitant. 
He dwelt with rapture on her perfect face, and felt 
that he would gladly bestow his life upon her. 
While this was going on, Claude and Happie were 
seated in one corner, eyeing every movement and 
commenting in general on affairs around, each 
with the same keen sense of the ridiculous. 

“Hap,” said Claude, “the Major is already 
‘dead stuck.’ Don’t you think so?”’ 

“Guess he is,” said Happie; “but hush, inexor¬ 
able critic, Marie, is winking at you.” 

At that moment receiving a meaning look from 
Mrs. Howard, Claude assumed the gravity of a 
monk. Katrine was in an opening of one of the 
bay-windows, discussing books, etc., with another 
gentleman, and everything went merry as a mar¬ 
riage bell. The music was succeeded by a conversa¬ 
tion between Major DeKray and Vesta on the sub¬ 
ject of different authors. 

“What class of authors, Miss Howard, do you 
like best?” said Major DeKray. 

“Well,” said Vesta, “I believe I like the old 
English prose writers. I think there is so much in a 
book that time has criticised for us.” 

“I agree with you. Their voices seem to come 
to us through such beautiful fields of thought, com¬ 
bining the imaginary with the real. I am partial 
to all English writers, except those who imitated 
or directed their styles to the saintships and 
cropped-headed Puritans,” said Major DeKray. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


77 


“I see,” said Vesta, “that with you, as with all 
Frenchmen, court patronage is the main sinew of 
authorship.” 

“No, you are mistaken; for really, this is fatal to 
the higher qualities of literature. Dryden, one of 
the most truly English of English authors, as we 
learn, did more than all others combined to bring 
about the triumphs of French standards in taste 
and French principles in criticism.” 

“I was brought up,” replied Vesta, “in the belief 
that England is the author of the greatest writers 
that ever lived; but it is true, now that I am left to 
my own instincts, I sometimes feel a desire to 
banish my old idols, and embrace the artistic beauty 
which characterizes the best French writers.” 

“Measured by any high standard of imagina¬ 
tion, except in few cases, other countries are want¬ 
ing compared to France in authorship; tried by any 
test of wit, the French are unrivalled.” 

“It is indeed difficult to devise a rule to gov¬ 
ern us in selections for reading, the world is so re¬ 
plete with literature; and with me, when I get hold 
of a work that is interesting, I forgive all short¬ 
comings, and care not whether it be French or 
English. I like Emerson among American authors.” 

“I certainly admire Emerson, too,” said Major 
DeKray, “and as a lecturer, he is unrivalled, al¬ 
though a Yankee. For choice and pith of language 
he belongs to a better age than ours. On the 
whole, he always infuses life into everything. To 
the young students, his lectures were magic-lantern 
pictures on mist. It was at his lectures that I was 


78 


VESTA ; 


first, as a young man, impressed with beautiful 
eyes, brimming with love and hope, or peering 
through the pensive gloaming of memory, to other 
scenes made dear by association. It was then my 
first affaire d’amour occurred, which ended a la 
Franc aise .” 

“I hope,” said Vesta, “in entente cordiale .” 

“It did truly, entre nous.” 

“Come, Major,” said Claude, interrupting their 
conversation, “don’t you and Cousin Vesta exhaust 
the French vocabulary. Supper is commenced, and 
uncle bids me lead the way to the dining-room.” 

With these words, the guests passed out 
through a hall which led into the spacious apart¬ 
ment, where every eye dwelt with rapture upon the 
rich feast spread before them. When the usual cere¬ 
monies of seating the guests were over, they all be¬ 
gan to feel the force of the appetizing viands. Their 
plates were served with but little regard to hy¬ 
gienic principles. Aromatic wines were passed, and 
while the cup circled around, it mingled with the 
souls of the participants and gave to each the hue of 
celestial roses. 

“While from an eye of liquid blue, 

A host of cupid’s arrows flew.” 

The supper passed off gloriously, Mrs. How¬ 
ard, clad in a neat dress, suited to the occasion, pre¬ 
siding with queenly dignity. MajorDeKray devot¬ 
ing most of his attention to Grandma, which was 
a high panegyric upon the gallantry which distin- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


79 


guished him, and the high office which few men at¬ 
tain in their respect to age. Claude and Happie, as 
usual, enlivened the repast, while the Judge sea¬ 
soned the whole with his wit and gayety. The sup¬ 
per was prolonged to a late hour, but just as it 
was over, a laughable scene occurred, which is 
worth recording. 

Little Olliewas ushered into the dining-room by 
Aunt Tony, and looking up into his papa’s face, be¬ 
gan to whisper something. 

“What is it, my boy?” said the Judge. “Speak 
out.” 

“I told you,” said he fretfully, and loudly reit¬ 
erated : “Mammy says you all eat too long, cause 
she’s hungry.” 

Claude could preserve his decorum no longer, 
and then was a general laugh. Major DeKray 
drawing the child to his arms, drew from his pocket 
a small pearl-handled knife, saying as he gave it to 
him, “Here, you shall have this,” and pouring a 
glassful of wine, told him to drink to the Southern 
Confederacy and to the interests of his black mam¬ 
my, at the same time offering him his seat at the 
table. But Ollie was too much absorbed in the 
beautiful knife, and “broke” to mammy to show 
what the good man had given him. But this was 
too much for Aunt Tony, who had been all the 
while peeping from behind the screen at the door. 

“God bless de man!” said she, “He’s most as 
han’some as dat other brass-button cap’n what eat 
here at Flora Cristy.” 


80 


VESTA; 


With these remarks, Claude again looked at 
Vesta with a quizzical glance, and almost “split his 
sides,” laughing. The lustre of the evening was 
really heightened by this trivial circumstance from 
true Southern life. 

Supper over, .the conversations were renewed 
in the parlor, intermingled with music, an oc¬ 
casional waltz and games of authors. The guests 
were so engrossed by the pleasures offered so royally, 
they forgot the time, until one of the gentlemen 
reminded Major DeKray that it was nearly twelve 
o’clock. They arose at once and extended their 
thanks, courtesies etc., to the family, passed out 
the yard, and were soon wending their way to 
their respective rooms at the City Hotel. 

To be thus received into Judge Howard’s family 
seemed to satisfy the ambition of DeKray, and 
alone in his room, he soliloquized: “Oh, what les¬ 
sons come to the heart in the charms of a virtuous 
woman. Vesta Howard! Were she my wife, I 
would this moment consecrate my life to her 
God; but ah, that heart of hers has already 
bestowed those angel smiles upon another; but one 
precious drop remains, I’ll hope, and yet banish my 
rival from her sweet lips.” He arose as the last 
words were repeated and walking to his dressing- 
case, he descried a note lying there awaiting him, 
placed there by the waiter on his room. 

“This,” said he, “is from Louise, tempting me 
perhaps. Cursed woman! The shadows of horror 
compass me around when I think of you. No such 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


81 


fiend can ever feel one glimpse of love’s divinity. 
I feel my heart blacken beneath thy touch, blighted 
and forever lost.” 

“A light like that with which hell fire illumes, 

The ghostly, writhing wretch whom it assumes.” 

“But here ? s the note—I’ll read.” 

“Dear Warren: 

“I have waited at the gate sometime to see you pass from 
Flora Crysta. Think, though, some strange infatuation is keep¬ 
ing you from your Louise; but no, darling, you cannot forget 
her nor the bloom, the beauty, and the joy she yields you. 
You told me not to be jealous. Am I ? To-night my eyes are 
kindling with an unnatural light, my cheeks glow with fevered 
heat and all nature wears an unearthly gloom. What is this? 
And yet I love you. Come to me at once. 

“Yours forever, 

“Louise.” 

For a moment these entreaties prevailed, in an¬ 
other, he became inflamed with the profoundest con¬ 
tempt. 

“What insane and hopeless folly this woman is 
guilty of, and could she but realize the sentiments of 
contempt awakened in man’s bosom, she would 
flee to parts unknown, where she might bury her 
own shame and remorse.” 

With these thoughts his mind became bewildered, 
and at length he fell upon his bed, dropped into a 
shadowy sleep and was only aroused by the gong 
for breakfast. 


S2 


VESTA ; 


CHAPTER XIY. 

LIN WOOD. 

In the afternoon Major DeKray determined to 
take a walk in the direction of Flora Crysta. He pass¬ 
ed the garden and went on in the direction of Lin- 
wood, an old familiar seat of learning, built np by 
an Englishman. Near this institution is the tomb 
of its founder and former occupant, a massive slab 
lifted above the remains of one who is long re¬ 
membered in the high offices to which he had at¬ 
tained in his taste for the liberal arts, and his ad¬ 
vancement for female education. 

To write a panegyric on this man would be a 
difficult task. His old pupils throughout the State 
of Georgia alone bear testimonials of the affection 
entertained for him, among whom is Mrs. Howard, 
whom he educated. Suffice it to say he was a 
man of the most exalted capacities and powers. 

The work of bringing female education to its 
condition of supremacy in the South was the wo rk of 
this man, evincing the highest degree of energy and 
greatness of soul, and the South will never cease to 
admire his ambition and the efficiency of his plans of 
action. His discipline was perfect; he expended a for¬ 
tune in building up Linwood and the State of Georgia 
to-day owes him a monument worthy of his name 
and deeds. He had once been a member of the Royal 


OR, THE HiDDEN CROSS. 


83 


Academy of Belles-Lettres in Europe, and came to 
America with his accomplished wife, with a view 
to the end of his noblest ambition. The humble 
grave is all that is left. The old institution is gone 
to decay, but the noble founder is interwoven with 
memories still reflected from the simple slab, bearing 
the inscription faintly preserved. 

“The ways of honor are open to all mankind, and to merit 
alone, we should pay an honorable distinction ” 

Major DeKrav was attracted to the spot, and 
walked up upon two young ladies, seated in a 
secluded place near the grave. To his surprised 
pleasure, he recognized Vesta and Happie. They 
greeted him with usual courtesy. He trembled in 
every limb as he thus accosted them : 

“Pardon me, young ladies, for this seeming 
intrusion,’’ at the same time riveting his eyes upon 
Vesta, as if to detect any displeasure. Vesta re¬ 
mained quite passive. Happie replied, 

“No intrusion I assure you, Major.’’ 

“Dispose of me as you please, young ladies; 
but, I should be charmed to join you in your pleas¬ 
ant afternoon walks,” added DeKray.” 

“Certainly sir,” replied Vesta, “as far as they ex¬ 
tend—we are only here meditating over this solitary 
grave and wondering if the reprobates of a North¬ 
ern army will ever molest the cherished remains 
of my mother’s old and loved preceptor.” 

“Perhaps, Miss Howard, with the voices that 
greet me here to plead for the dust beneath the 
slab, they might vanquish the power of arms, 


84 


VESTA ; 


confound all cruel designs and soften the most 
obdurate hearts. 

Both young ladies thanked the Major for the 
compliment conveyed. Happie in glowing language 
gave him a sketch of the surroundings, when Lin- 
wood was at the height of its interest and splendor; 
of the villa near by, where the Lin wood family re¬ 
sided, of the rank and distinction of the founder of 
the grand old institution; and everything connected 
with the scenes in view. In her usual jocular 
mood, she also told him of the singular supersti¬ 
tions which had infected the mind of old Aunt 
Tony, in regard to the grave, giving her phantas¬ 
mal dreams—the images of ghosts which had often 
appeared to her while passing through the woods 
encircling the domain. 

“So powerful,” says Vesta, “is this hallucina¬ 
tion with mammy, that I can’t prevail on her to 
bring a vase of flowers to place on the slab.” 

From this suggestion, the Major said: Miss 
Happie, do you believe that spirits from another 
world ever visit this?” 

“Why, yes, of course; they are often visible to 
me, Major.” 

“Well, do tell me how they look.” 

“Why, they are arrayed in divine form and 
feature, with gleaming plumes, that might over¬ 
come an air of adamantine denseness pranked with 
fire, such you know, as the poet describes.” 

“Fie! Aunt Hap,” said Vesta, “control your 
wits while visiting here—you arouse the dead,” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


85 


The witch of Endor ought to be here now,” said 
Happie, “you’d soon see a man definitely outlined.” 

“ExcuseAunt Happie, Major DeKray,” said 
Vesta; “she forgets her own identity.” 

“Excuse Vesta,” said Happie; “she is wholly 
void of that shaping imagination which you know 
is the highest criterion of a spiritualist or medium.” 

Major DeKray laughed heartily and Vesta pro¬ 
posed to either extend their walk or return to the 
yard, as “Aunt Happie was indulging too much 
levity.” 

They extended their walk, sometimes passing 
branches as clear as pearls, sometimes resting under 
broad oak trees, and often in those embowered spots 
where all around the sweetest singing birds charm¬ 
ed their very souls. These and many other di¬ 
versions were repeated until coming into the road, 
they beheld Claude and Katrine coming to meet 
them, on whom they conferred the privilege of 
joining in their rambles. Claude had refreshed his 
faculties for “merry-making.” 

Upon a sudden, a vehicle passed furiously by, with 
fiery horses attached to it. A woman, ex tending her 
jeweled hand out, waved at the passers-by and burst 
into a frenzied laugh. 

“Who is that?” said Claude, giving a wink at 
DeKray. 

“That,” said Happie, “is the blessed saint of 
Angelo.” 

“Miss Louise Angelo,” returned Vesta, “a 
refugee from New Orleans.” 


86 


VESTA; 


‘ ‘ But why did you term her saint, Miss Happie? ’ ’ 
said DeKray. 

“ Because she wears the cross upon her neck, and 
arrays her mental vision like a madonna,” rejoined 
Happie. 

Major DeKray affected to know very little of 
her, and the conversation turned to some other 
more interesting theme. Claude, in the meantime, 
could not help laughing. 

“It seems,” said Claude, “that I knew you were 
around here, Major; for you know congenial spir¬ 
its are drawn together by a sort of occult sym¬ 
pathy.” 

“Yes, that is exactly so,” replied Happie, 
“that’s why Miss Angelo turned up.” 

The Major seemed confused, as he thought for 
the moment the remark referred to him, but Happie 
alluded to Claude, and informed Major DeKray 
that Claude was one of Miss Angelo’s warmest ad¬ 
mirers. 

“That’s even so,” said Claude, “she’s an irresist¬ 
ible bait for any of us; don’t you think so, Major?” 

“Of course,” saidDeKray, blushinglv. 

“I heard her sing last week,” said Happie, “at 
an amateur concert, and I declare her voice is as 
soft and sweet as a grinding organ.” 

“She has the volubility of an Italian charla¬ 
tan,” said Claude. 

“A marvelous reverberation of your own 
voices,” said Katrine, “so hush about Miss Angelo, 
and for pity’s sake talk of something else.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


87 


“What an awful reverberation of criticism,” said 
Claude, “implied from Aunt Katrine’s injunction.” 

Here comes Aunt Tony, calling at the pitch of her 
voice: “Come on, Miss Vesty; dar’s a man rite 
straight from de war, and wants to see all you 
girls. He’s got on a long, gray coat, wid brass but¬ 
tons all down it, and says he knows your brudder 
Paris, and kum right from de place where de Yanks 
is fitin.” 

“All right, mammy, we will be there directly.” 

“Make haste, kase de man is waitin’ on you.” 

The young ladies and Claude hastened home¬ 
ward, and the Major walked on in the direction of 
the city. 

Alone again with his own thoughts, he felt more 
than ever the charm of Vesta’s beauty and modesty, 
the keen wit of Happie, the amiable dignity of 
Katrine, the social attainments of Claude, «and 
the supreme disgust inspired by Louise Angelo in 
her bold conduct when the vehicle passed. He felt 
that the infatuation was dissolved, and that he 
could at once rid himself of any further obligation 
to so abandoned a creature. He desired, however, 
to avoid an open quarrel with her as he knew any 
angry invectives would be reported against him. 
After revolving the subject, he finally concluded to 
write her a withering note and at once did so. 

“Miss Louise Angelo: 

“I desire no further communication with you. You have 
forfeited all claims to respectability; and you are a viper of 
the most deadly poison. Train your thoughts to virtue, and 
henceforth desist from sending me any word or note. 

“> T o use in signing my name, as you know who I am.” 


88 


VESTA ; 


This was borne to Louise, who sat gorgeously 
attired, awaiting the advent of her paramour. 
Seizing the note, she hastily gleaned its contents, 
and a heavy shadow arose on her brow-; tearing it 
into fragments, she stamped it with her foot and 
cursed the innocent cause of Major DeKray’s infi¬ 
delity to her. “Ah! thou hast overstepped the 
boundary, sir, and Vesta Howard shall atone for it. 
I will yet poison the cup of her life. Vesta Howard! 
she is the nightingale that woes him from my love, 
but * * * * could I only see Warren, I have but 
to will and he will succumb.’ 

She took a heavy glass of brandy and sinking on 
her bed, was soon lost in the oblivion of its intoxi¬ 
cating effects. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


89 


* 


CHAPTER XV. 

ARMY MOVEMENTS. 

In 1862, the complete failure of the Peninsula 
expedition filled the North with sorrow. The Con¬ 
federates were jubilant. In his report, General Lee 
said : “The seige of Richmond was raised and the 
object of a campaign which had been prosecuted 
after months of preparation, at an enormous ex¬ 
pense of men and money, completely frustrated.” 
It was in the famous retreat of the Union army 
from Malvern to Harrison’s Bar. There had been 
•sent to the Peninsula one hundred and sixty 
thousand men and the commanding general, 
McClellan telegraphed to the president that he had 
not over fifty thousand left with their colors. The 
Union army was vastly superior to the Confederate, 
beleagued Richmond and proclaimed its speedy con¬ 
quest. The Confederates attacked the enemy in his 
intrenchments with death-defying valor, driving 
them from the field, a distance of over thirty- 
five miles, and compelled him to find shelter 
under the cover of his gunboats. It was after one 
of the engagements at Malvern Hill, that Captain 
Frederick Lamar addressed a letter to Vesta, send¬ 
ing it by Lieutenant Camp, one of his subordinates 
and a very special friend in the army, and he also 
bore a letter of introduction to Judge Howard from 


90 


VESTA ; 


Paris. Lieutenant Camp had come on a furlough 
to Georgia. Reaching Flora Crysta in his route, he 
sought a private interview with Vesta, after pre¬ 
senting the letter to Judge Howard, and gave her 
the full details of his experience and of Frederick 
Lamar’s gallantry in war. 

Captain Lamar acquitted himself with great 
honor,” said he. “He is inspired with a high and 
noble emulation. He bade me bear this letter to 
you privately.” 

“I thank you, Lieutenant,” said Vesta, “and I 
am truly glad to hear so favorably from my friend. 
I have long known Captain Lamar, and regard 
him as a very heroic and irresistible gentleman.” 

“Well, Miss Howard, I will walk into the city 
awhile, and should you conclude to send a reply to 
this letter, I will call before my departure and take 
pleasure in bearing an answer.” 

“I again thank you, sir, and will be ready to 
avail myself of your kind offer,” replied Vesta. 

Lieutenant Camp bade her good-day, and Vesta 
proceeded to read Frederick’s letter, trembling as 
she did so, and blotting the pages with tears that 
were irrepressible. 

“In Camps, near Richmond, July, 1862. 
“My Dear Miss Vesta: 

‘I have just passed through repeated engagements with 
the enemy, and in no previous battles of the war was the mar¬ 
tial spirit so keenly and so bitterly developed. It was in one 
of these that Gen. Hill seized the standard of the Fourth 
South Carolina, a regiment which he had formerly com¬ 
manded, and shouted to our retreating soldiers: ‘If you will 


OB, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


91 


not follow, I will perish alone.’ ‘Lead on, Hill,’ shouted our 
boys, which acted like magic. 

“It was also in another engagement that Maj. Peyton had 
a son with both legs shattered. He called to his father for 
help. ‘When we have beaten the enemy, then I will help 
you. I have other sons to lead to glory. Forward!’ 
Such was his answer. In a few seconds more, the father was 
dead. Such instances might be multiplied on both sides. My 
eagerness to write you caused me to avail myself of this mo¬ 
ment, before another charge is made. I know not when this 
may be, which demonstrates the mutability of all earthly 
things. 

“You are already, Miss Vesta, fully sensible of my feelings 
ings toward you, that cannot brook restraint; besides, I do 
not know where to look for peace of mind until I again assure 
you of my love and receive some assurance from your heart of 
its return and appreciation. I can do no more than give you an 
open and sincere statement of my entire devotion which is all 
that I have to offer on earth. A devotion as lasting as it is 
deep and resolute. 

“The little encouragement you gave me that lovely after¬ 
noon, when your sweet voice fell like gentle music on my 
heart, has been cherished and dreamed over and been a sweet 
voice of comfort to me in all trial and danger, and each inmost 
feeling of my soul has echoed to the parting word. Do you 
recall it? Am I mistaken in its meaning? 

‘ ’Tis love that murmurs in my breast, 

And makes me shed the secret tear; 

Nor day, nor night my heart has rest, 

For night and day thy voice I hear.’ 

“I know, Miss Vesta, your father and mother esteem me and, 
as I learn, they ‘never tire contemplating me at a distance,’ 
but for you their ambition is inordinate, demanding more than 
my ill-fortune can command, warning you against letting your 
heart become interested where it is not practicable or probable 
of anything resulting from it more than a degree of sentimen¬ 
tality or romance, 


92 


VESTA ; 


11 This decree being passed, I do not think proper to compro¬ 
mise my manhood, by appealing to them to know their reasons 
for this course. A man who ventures to question parental au¬ 
thority, ventures often upon false pretexts; still, in matters of 
love, there should be just and honorable grounds for distrust. 
He is surely irrational in his views of your happiness, when he 
would have you wed a man simply for pecuniary motives. 

“His designs on this subject ar e fully known to me, but oh! 
dear Vesta, will you grant what he demands of you? Will you 
banish me from your heart? I have never yet asked you to 
marry me, but I have sought for many years to win your heart 
which inflames my very being and which I cannot yield and 
live. 

“It was not without pain and jealousy that I learned of Major 
DeKray’s untiring devotion to you. When I heard this and 
other reports, perceiving that people took pleasure in talking 
more about this than was necessary for comforting me, I flatly 
refused to talk on the subject, not wishing to make my misfor¬ 
tunes a pastime and not being able to remedy them. 

“Any courtesy,of course, extended to Major DeKray is right, 
as he is a gentleman nurtured and educated in the love of his 
country, and if I am to be supplanted in your heart, I would 
rather it would be Greek overcome by Greek, than by a less 
worthy man, but selfishness, you know, has a broad scope; this 
proves to you that though not prone to such a degrading pas¬ 
sion as jealousy, the effect of love upon my being; few there 
are who can resist its influences. 

“The authority which demands obedience from you, de¬ 
mands also a perfect model to which you shall conform as a 
woman. Can you do both? Can you yield to the wishes of 
your father and falsify your love? Vesta, I love you, aye!/ 
adore you. The motives of honor and fame, the pride of an¬ 
cestry, and above all, a constant heart, will ever prompt me to 
live for you; will influence and animate me to honest exertion 
should we survive this war and you become my wife. 

“The sense of present discouragement stifles my very exist¬ 
ence, and coldness or forgetfulness on your part, would be in- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


93 


supportable; but only say that you love me and that you are 
fojever mine, then to the last of my life, I shall be a happy man; 
then, if I fall a sacrifice to my country, it shall be with a glory 
reflected from those proud, beautiful eyes, that have so oft 
-cheered my past life. This weakness you might say is not 
suited to the greatness of the cause in which I labor for my 
bleeding country, but it cannot sully the glory of a devoted 
heart. Martial bearing does not extinguish love, therefore, 
you will suffer me to be as man, for neither patriotism nor 
courage renders the heart insensible to the charms of woman. 
This is a crisis to test the heart and its capacity for loving. 

“Write me, Yesta, and, oh, God! let your letter bear evidence 
of what I desire above the world —your love ; more than this, 
I do not desire. 

“Let its radiant beams light my pathway to glory, and at last 
to heaven, as stars that adorn the milky way. Beautiful one 
of transcendent purity and principle, grant me but thy love 
and beauty. To-night, dear Yesta, one thought, one look, one 
sigh from you would make each moment an eternity of bliss. 
You cannot come to me, my darling, but I can at least go to you 
as occasion offers. Can I? May I? And will you write and 
say yes! Until I hear from you I am 

“Yours faithful unto death, 

“Frederick.” 

After writing this letter, Captain Lamar 
was in great suspense and agony, but in 
contemplating the influence Vesta’s father might 
bring to bear, he had no alternative but to suppress 
his feelings, to practice patience and assume the lan¬ 
guage of resignation. His men and comrades were 
increasingly interested in his deportment. They 
knew something pressed heavily on his thoughts. 

Said one: “Captain, you are as restless as a 
mountain eagle gazing upon an invader, who, I see, 




Vesta \ 


is already bleeding in yonr talons; you are not sat¬ 
isfied with your victory of yesterday, but it seems 
you want to overcome the whole North in one blow.’ ’ 

Captain Lamar only laughed at his companion 
but felt deeply how ignorant he was of the cause 
of his dejection. No man in the army stood higher 
with his men. The utterances of attachment to him 
were ever the commingling voices that fell upon his 
ears. His conduct on many battle-fields is on record 
and forms one of the most glorious pages in his¬ 
tory. Like all true Confederates, his strength 
seemed to grow in proportion to the difficulties he 
had to encounter and overcome, and to no soldier 
are we more indebted than to Captain Lamar for 
the vindication of Southern rights and principles. 

Captain Lamar’s anxiety grew .'every day. He 
passed on one occasion a sleepless night. On the 
following morning one of his men thus accosted 
him: 

“How is this, Captain, sleeping so late? Lieu¬ 
tenant Camp has returned and wishes to see you at 
once—on pressing business, I suppose.” 

Captain Lamar called to his body-servant, a 
bright, intelligent mulatto, to notify Lieutenant 
Camp that he was ready for an interview and to 
come into his tent&t once. 

“My business must be known to no one but my¬ 
self,’’said he to his servant. You can conduct Camp 
to me and then retire until I call you.” Such was 
Frederick’s agitation he could hardly speak. 


Oil, TftE HIDDEN CllOSS. 


05 


At this time, the boys were gathered around Lieu¬ 
tenant Camp, extending their welcomes, when he 
was summoned to join Captain Lamar. The two 
met face to face. The one a picture of martial bear¬ 
ing, with blue eyes sparkling with unusual interest, 
the other, of noble aspect and army gay^etv and en¬ 
joyment. Captain Lamar paused in his remarks, 
looked at Lieutenant Camp and gave the most cor¬ 
dial salute. 

“Glad indeed to see you, Will; hope you have the 
desired answer to my letter. 

“Guess all’s well, replied Camp, “judging from 
looks and acts which still move me and possess me.” 

Lieutenant Camp handed him the letter. With 
cheeks flushed, his eyes fairly sparkled as he read 
it, feeling that its contents sealed his destiny. 

“My Dear Frederick: 

“I have just read your letter sent by Lieut. Camp, who, by 
the by, is a most worthy bearer of such dispatches. I must tell 
you we are all charmed with him; he has an eloquent tongue 
and a discreet head, and is sufficiently armed with devotion to 
you to serve you in any capacity. 

“He almost alienated the girls from their other attachments, 
having made many conquests among us all. His intrigue in de¬ 
livering your letter was a source of amusement to me, as I was 
the only one who knew of his object in visiting Flora Crysta, 
being introduced by a friend, for the purpose of visiting and 
admiring the garden. But to your letter, dear Frederick. 
Such sentiments as you express demand my sincerest consider¬ 
ation. Frederick, you say you love me and I believe you do. 
In this I can assure you, dear one, my conduct in the past is a 
true index to my mind. I thought on the eve of your depart¬ 
ure to have satisfied your mind, but I scarcely could unfold my 


96 


VESTA ; 


heart, as it was too full for utterance. No scruple now re¬ 
mains to prevent me from reciprocating every emotion of your 
heart. My feelings are sincere and I can love but once. In¬ 
deed, I do not scruple to tell you that, since our first meeting 
in Virginia, though comparatively a child at that era, I have 
loved you Soothed by your sweet attentions and loving words, 

I have since then paid a blind submission to my heart and in¬ 
dulged this devotion to you in my most secret moments. No 
one can supplant you in my love, whatever claims they may 
have to wealth or power. I love you, Frederick, for the inesti¬ 
mable qualities which I know you to possess and they are to 
me as vast as empires. In the purity of your devotion to me 
I love you all the more. All that I now assert is true, and I 
may be excessive, but I hope this candid avowal will not dimin¬ 
ish the lustre of my influence, still, I do not longer forbear, as 
I may never have the opportunity of so expressing my feelings 
again. God grant, however, it may be different and we may 
meet again.” 

This was too much for Captain Lamar. He 
buried his face in his handkerchief and gave deep 
vent to tears, though they r filled the extreme meas¬ 
ure of his soul. “Vesta! my angel! Is this a dream 
so beautifully binding my soul to heaven?’’ He read 
on: 

“Frederick, yes, my heart is forever yours—keep it! The 
stars, the beautiful flowers, the birds, streams and everything 
around Flora Crysta remind me of you, and mingle hues of the 
past with sad forebodings of the future. 

“To me there is but one thought and that is when danger 
bears my absent Frederick. 

“All this is true, but how is the issue between father, mother 
and myself to end? They know my feelings toward you, for 
they can’t help but discover this. They plan for me a brilliant 
marriage with another, and speak of matrimonial alliances as 
matters of speculation. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


97 


“As to Major DeKray, he is a regular visitor at our house, 
quite agreeable, handsome and prepossessing to those suscepti¬ 
ble to his charms, but on my heart, he makes no greater im¬ 
pression than any other man. Father’s admiration for him is 
unbounded, and he labors to inspire me with his views, but 
as you know me, a plain, unaffected girl, I am unmoved. 

“It is best that you do not come to see me soon, for reasons 
I will hereafter give you, and now, dear Frederick, banish for¬ 
ever the doubts that have been afflicting you and let your soul 
overflow with the rapture of your own Vesta’s undying love. 

“God be with you in all danger. 

“Forever yours, 


Captain Lamar arose a new man. He read and 
re-pernsed this letter until every word was commit¬ 
ted to his heart. He blessed the paper that her 
hand had pressed and imagined the tears that gath¬ 
ered in those beautiful eyes that had beamed upon its 
pages. This letter was to be his sheath in war. 
He felt that whatever might take place, she was 
his in that sincerity of love that no one could win. 
He knew her truth—her purity and was happy. 
He felt he could now serve his country with a zeal 
befitting a man. An ocean of wealfh greeted him in 
the love of woman and what did he care for mam¬ 
mon? 

Thus left to his own reflections, walking in his 
tent, he renewed the conversation with Lieutenant 
Camp, with more composure than ever before. 

“A change has certainly come over the spirit of 
your dreams, Captain,” said Camp. 



98 


VESTA ; 


“The letter you brought me is a vital essence, 
my good friend, sweet words of import to the long 
future/’ 

“I imagined all this; as you know, actions speak 
louder than words.” 

“Let me show you, Camp, what is said of you,” 
and drawing the letter from his bosom, he read all 
that Vesta had written on his “noble friend.” 

“I tell you, Captain, she is the very soul of 
beauty, and that glance of her eye, when your name 
was mentioned, spoke something ‘past all mortal 
pleasure.’ ” 

“A strange emotion stirs within me whenever you 
speak of her; mind now, I may get jealous—but 
no! I am too fond of you, Camp, for the comfort 
you bring me, and I must embrace you.” With these 
words, Captain Lamar, in his usual impulsive man¬ 
ner, drew Lieutenant Camp closely to his breast, 
and they both laughed outright. 

“Don’t let your golden fancy imagine me Miss 
Vesta Howard, Captain; [remember I must go on 
duty in a few moments, and if you squeeze me too 
hard I may be disabled.” 

“The muse of inspirationhas charge of me now, 
Camp, and you must pardon my folly.” 

The bugle at this moment reminded the two 
that some movement was on hand and hastily re¬ 
placing the letter in his vest pocket, Captain Lamar 
hurried to the scene of action. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 99 

His men, observing his unusual flow of spirits, 
wondered what mysterious power had brought 
it about. 

“We are going to make a big march,” said one. 

“Why?” said another. 

Because Captain Lamar has an omen to that 
effect. A prophetic eagle "has been flying around his 
head, for don’t you see how graciously he smiles at 
the boys.” 

Orders were soon given, which verified all that 
had been said. It was announced that Pope was 
routed and driven to his fortifications near Wash¬ 
ington. Among the casualities reported was the 
fall of Colonel Fletcher Webster, an old friend of 
Captain Lamar, and a son of the great Daniel Web¬ 
ster, who had exerted so much of his power and 
eloquence during his life to avert an issue of arms 
between the States. This was Captain Lamar’s 
first knowledge of this young man’s death, and he 
wept like a child. 

“For,” said he, “this was a noble gallant 
man, and under any circumstances I would 
have waited upon him and honored him as he so 
richly deserved, friend or foe. 

Such was the state of Captain Lamar’s mind as 
the curtain drops upon the scenes in which he was 
playing the noble offices of friend, patriot and ' 
lover. 


100 


VESTA; 


CHAPTER XVI. 

LOUISE ANGELO. 

When the first fnry of vexation and anger had 
spent itself with Louise Angelo, she began to reflect 
how she should avenge herself upon Major DeKray. 
Her vile denunciations of Vesta Howard were suc¬ 
ceeded by violent bursts of grief and complaints. 
She soon determined that the most politic course 
she could pursue would be to disguise herself and go 
into the Federal army. This was an artful device 
to get Warren, as she thought, in her power, and 
she cared not for any disgrace attending her con¬ 
duct. This she kept profoundly secret, but made 
all the arrangements necessary to carry her threats 
into execution. Where was she drifting? Alas! 
deeper and deeper into the whirlpool of sin and 
destruction, obstinately pursuing the Utopia of her 
wild dreams, as false as the heart that led them on. 
Her mother, who was by no means a vile woman, 
was very indulgent and blind to any faults her 
daughter possessed; her father, on the contrary, was 
a traitor at heart, and it was from him she drew 
such an ignominious nature. 

******** 

Angelo returned home one evening in breathless 
haste and informed his wife that Louise had gone 
off, that she had certainly passed the Yankee lines, 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


101 


and was beyond recovery. For the moment, Mrs. 
Angelo was thrown into great trouble.” 

“Oh! can it be that Louise has come to this?” 
she moaned continually in anguish, and incessantly 
repeated the words: “My poor child doomed to 
destruction.” 

Of course, such hopeless folly as this Louise 
was guilty of awakened a sentiment of universal 
contempt among the people. In the midst of it all 
Angelo remained passive and indifferent. 

“Louise,” said he, “is smart enough to make 
her own way, and she may be the means of secur¬ 
ing a place of retreat for us, when we may be out 
of the reach of the Rebels; but do not, wife, let my 
sentiments be known, as I might be torn to pieces 
by those who are already in such a frenzy of excite¬ 
ment against me.” 

The people imagined that some plot or conspiracy 
had been formed by this man, and that Louise was 
his accomplice. Still, as they had no special testi¬ 
mony against him, they let him pass. Angelo was 
struck with fear at discovering the suspicions resting 
upon him, and concluded to get out of the way as 
soon as it was possible for him to do so, thinking 
only of the means of screening himself from South¬ 
ern vengeance. 

A few days after Louise left, her mother found 
in her trunk the following letter, which betrayed her 
dissimulation and debased mind : 


VESTA; 


102 

“Mother: 

“I leave the South and I desire to live to see the Confeder¬ 
acy utterly destroyed. I wish to make myself heroic and I 
shall go North where I can sustain my ideas of woman’s rights. 
I have already placed myself in charge of a certain captain of 
the Federal forces, who promises me protection and promo¬ 
tion . I scorn to enter into any vindication of myself in this 
matter, for I have been wronged and now demand that persons 
guilty of atrocious slander against me shall be punished. I shall 
make known the place of my birth, and, being a Canadian, will 
meet with many friends. The fact of your being a Southern 
born woman makes no difference, as father is all right on the 
Union question. He should at once leave the seceded States 
and enlist with me in the army. 

I leave my trunk in your care. In one corner you will find 
a small box containing my jewels, many of which you have 
never seen. I wish you to keep them as you do your life, as 
they are a fortune to me, and a resource for the future. Keep 
them concealed about your person and let no one know of my 
having anything so valuable. As to how I obtained them, 
give yourself no concern, as this is a matter of my own consid¬ 
eration. Contain yourself and do not betray any emotion to 
the world in regard to me. 

I am determined in my plans and all entreaties are vain. 
Your prayers must now be offered for the downfall of the 
Southern Confederacy and not for your injured daughter. 

“As ever, 

“Louise.” 

After reading this miserable letter, Mrs. Angelo 
commenced the most severe and angry invectives 
against her guilty daughter, but in the strength of 
natural affection, she yielded to an uncontrollable 
grief. 

“Can Louise imagine what she is inflicting upon 
one who has suffered so much for her sake? I am 
her mother and how can she treat me in this heart- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS 


108 


less manner? [Jewels are worthless, obtained at the 
sacrifice of all moral principle. I scorn to look at 
them, while everything relating to personal con¬ 
duct and character is lost forever. Yes! all my 
hopes are, too, forever eclipsed by such a black 
cloud resting upon my only child. Vain all my 
pleadings, and forever lost my claims to life.” Sink¬ 
ing into her chair, the mother wept in the fullness 
of her broken heart. From this moment she deter - 
mined to seclude herself from the world. She was de- 
voted'to her unworthy husband and would have de¬ 
fended him from the accusations against him, but 
truth prevailed in her bosom and she determined to 
to let matters take their own course. 


104 


VESTA ; 


CHAPTER XVII. 

PARIS AT HOME. 

About the twentieth of December, on one of those 
clear, frosty mornings which offer so many attrac¬ 
tions to the occupants of Flora Crvsta, cuddled close¬ 
ly around a good Southern fire, sat the genial Howard 
family. While secure from all clamor and strife, their 
attention was drawn to a horseman who came can¬ 
tering up to the front gate. The door bell-rang and 
in a second, to the surprise of all, Paris bolted into his 
mother’s room, threw his arms around her and 
closely pressed her to his bosom, and then separate¬ 
ly embraced each member of the family. 

“Oh! my darling,” said Mrs. Howard, “what 
unexpected joy in meeting you. Your father should 
be the first to. welcome you, but he has gone to the 
city and will not return before night.” 

“Yes, but I have seen him and he bade me say 
to you, mother, that he would return to dinner as 
I had come.” 

At this moment, Aunt Tony came bounding in 
the room, gathered Paris in her arms, and kissed 
and kissed him, saying: 

“God bless my lamb, how he’s grown, and de 
very chip of ole massa, what’s gone.” She surveyed 
him from head to foot. 

“Dis is shurely Mars Paris; it’s him’xactly, and 
no mistake onit.” After passing many eulogiums on 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


105 


his fine looks, his brass buttons, his buckskin gloves 
and “high-up” boots, she ran out to trumpet his 
arrival to the other darkies on the place. Then came 
the faithful ones from all quarters to extend their 
welcomes, all of whom he cordially grasped by the 
hand. 

The neighbors also came in to see him, and the 
house was a scene of enchanting glee. 

“I have come home,” he said “to recruit and en¬ 
joy the festivities of Christmas, if not suddenly 
called back to my post of duty. Through the 
courtesy of Captain Lamar, I have obtained this 
furlough, and to him lam bound b} r unusual ties of 
friendship.” 

Vesta, who stood by enjoying the fireside de¬ 
lights, hearing this remark, could not help showing 
her emotion, but changed the subject by saying: 

“Grandma must see Paris, and let us all go 
down with him and enjoy the pleasure of an agree¬ 
able surprise.” 

They all repaired at once to the home¬ 
stead, where they found Grandma in her own 
room, seated in “the old arm-chair,” overlooking 
her beautiful exotics close by. Looking up she be¬ 
held Paris. 

“Why, bless my soul, Marie, when did Paris ar¬ 
rive? You are looking well, and I attribute this to 
camp life, which is a guard against liver complaint, 
with such fine digestive apparatus as war applies.” 

By this time, Claude, Happie and Katrine had 
taken possession of Paris, while little Ollie was 


106 


VESTA ; 


climbing on his shoulders. Paris was then prompt¬ 
ed to go into the yard and call up Reno, his favorite 
dog, one he had left with Claude. 

‘ ‘ Here! Ren o, here! ’ ’ 

Reno came with a bound and such demonstra¬ 
tions as he made over Paris seem incredulous. 

There are whole volumes of thought, rich with 
the experience of Southern boys and their favorite 
greyhounds, steeped as it were in the sunshine of 
love and tenderness. These faithful animals are 
not “born to be forgotten’’—trifles of a moment, 
but are treasured with favorite horses, in those 
checker-board volumes that are filled with mem¬ 
ories of the past. Claude and Paris were the hap¬ 
piest of all in their interchange of greetings and 
comments. 

Thus the day passed. Paris was specially enter¬ 
taining to Grandma, as well as to the balance, in his 
recitals of the war, its tributary evils, but compar¬ 
ing the Confederacy to a stately ship riding safely 
through her moorings, and anchoring in a haven of 
peace and plenty. He knew and felt what the real 
essence of war was, but he had resolved upon giving 
only the bright side to his desponding mother. 
While every day was gradually bringing the war 
closer homewards, he felt it wiser to leave the 
shaping of events to older heads. His comments 
on President Lincoln rather astonished his family. 

“Lincoln,” said he, “has big brains, and I think 
will listen to reason, when the time comes, indepen¬ 
dent of prejudice or passion.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


107 


“It is true,” said Grandma, “that Lincoln is not 
in sympathy with the extremes of the Republican 
party.” 

“I think,” said Paris, “that he would disen¬ 
gage the whole country from its entanglements and 
restore peace if he could. 

“But you all talk of these things, and yet the war 
goes on all the same. Let us talk of other things,” 
said Claude. 

“Paris has come home for recreation and enjoy¬ 
ment and let him have a few day’s respite,” re¬ 
marked Happie. 

Paris was but too ready to enter into sports and 
forget for awhile the war and all its concomitants. 
The girls and boys concluded to take a walk over 
the beautiful ground. As Paris once more beheld 
the old, familiar scenes, he remarked: 

“It is indeed marvelous, this sorcery, which 
these old scenes weave about the heart.” 

“Yes,” said Claude, “the vernal air of Flora 
Crysta is a good medicine that may be taken over 
and over again without any sense of sameness, or 
failure of its invigorating quality.” 

“It certainly has a good effect upon Claude,” 
said Happie, “for it lifts very air upon top of his 
head.” Claude’s hat at this moment blowing off 
by the wind. ‘ ‘ Do see! ’’ 

Vesta picked up the hat as it blew at 
her feet and placed it back on Claude’s head. 

“Aunt Hap, do see how sweet Vesta is; she’s ever 
on hand in momentary needs.” 


108 


VESTA ; 


“With a subject like you, Claude, she could not 
do otherwise than help you, knowing that since you 
got that drubbing from the Yanks, you are not 
blessed with a superabundant vitality that would 
enable yoxi to stoop over and pick up your own 
hat.” 

Here the young people reached the terraces, 
and by this time the wind had whisked into the 
north so suddenly as to plate all the trees with 
crystal, sweeping the sky clear of clouds. 

“This is beautiful,” said Paris. 

“It is indeed,” said Claude, “the very confec¬ 
tionery of nature.” 

“Yes,” said Happie, “like Lamb’s glorified sug¬ 
ar candy.” 

“It does too much harm to Flora Crysta’s 
lovely trees,” rejoined Vesta, “to confer pleasure.” 

“I think, Aunt Hap, as you often propose to be¬ 
come a sculptor, you had best form your image 
from these evanescent icicles, so they’d melt away 
before any defects might be discovered.” 

“Thank you for the suggestion,” replied Happie, 
“and as you like exhilarating themes, etc., guess 
you’ll like these ice-balls, that communicate their 
sparkle to the senses, so take this—’’and throwing a 
handful of snow-crusts at Claude, a scene of general 
merriment ensued. 

The crowd drew to the house, after spending 
some time in the yard viewing the leafless trees and 
shrubs and commenting on the anatomy of nature, 
and tracing the smoke issuing from the chimneys 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS,. 


109 


to the fireside and kitchen, where the servants were 
preparing a good supper for their growing appe¬ 
tites. 


“Man in society is like a flower 
Blown in his native bed; ’tis there alone 
His faculties expanded in full bloom 
Shine; there only reach their proper use.” 

The cheering faces of home shed a light of rap¬ 
ture over Paris, and he felt sgdly the contrast be¬ 
tween these scenes and those in camp. This is a 
complex state of mind, and nothing can answer the 
requisitions made upon the youth of a land on this 
subject in leaving homes and kindred, but the fire 
of patriotism that animates them. 

It was now the time for celebrating the 
Christmas holidays, according to the customs of 
the South, and it must be remembered that the 
war had not yet had any effect upon these customs 
at the era of our story. The girls, wishing to sig¬ 
nalize the return of Paris, determined on introduc¬ 
ing their usual ceremonies, in the way of games, 
the Christmas tree, the burning of the yule log, the 
garlands of mistletoe, the introduction of Santa 
Claus, the hangingup of stockings and other amuse¬ 
ments too numerous to mention, but ' to the 
exclusion of the charades and dramatic theatricals 
held in such high appreciation at Flora Crysta. 

Claude was now on the track of something 
really amusing for the benefit of the crowd. Said 
Vesta to Aunt Tony: 


110 


VESTA ; 


“Mammy, you must certainly hang up your 
stocking, as we all wish to give you a real treat.” 

“Miss Vesty, you believe I am going to do dat 
very thing.” 

“I know of two or three dresses you will get,” 
said Claude, “so, mammy, you had better hang up a 
bag or basket.” 

“Well, if dats de case, I’ll just hang up my big 
pillow-slip, den I know I’ll be prepared for de ca- 
sion,” replied Aunt Tony. 

She did as was suggested. Claude, knowing her 
utter aversion to rabbits, managed to secure a big 
buck one and on Christmas-eve night stole into her 
room, and, wrapping the buck rabbit in newspap¬ 
ers and other things,-placed it in the bag, and the 
dresses and other offerings on top, carefully fixing 
the rabbit so as to give no signs of life. 

He then filled all the girls’ stockings with all 
sorts of nonsensical tricks. After this, little Ollie’s 
with toys and confectioneries of every conceivable 
design. By daylight the next morning, the girls 
and boys were up at an early hour. They quietly 
stole in upon Aunt Tony, who seeing them, bawled 
out: “Christmas gift, boys and girls,” repeating 
this several times. 

“But, mammy, open your bag,” said Vesta, 
“and let’s see what good old Santa Claus has 
brought to you.” 

“All right, I knows I’se got a lot of things, case 
that bag is puffed out like old Brindle’s bag.” 

Opening the big pillow-slip, she exclaimed: 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS^ 


111 


“Here’s de very dress what Miss Vesty bought 
for this old nigger. Here’s dat shawl what Miss 
Hap promised me, and here’s another dress from 
Miss Katrine; and oh, Lord! here’s something 
from old Miss—all rolled here tight as a tick. Dis 
is a bacon ham, kase old Miss said she was gwine 
to gib me a big Christmas gift.” 

She kept removing paper after paper, untying 
strings, until at length, a big buck rabbit jumped 
right up in her face and over hershoulder, clear out * 
of her door. 

At this she gave a loud yell, forgetting dresses, 
shawls and everything else. At this moment 
Claude came rushing in; she caught him and taking 
him to a bucket of freezing water, thoroughly bap¬ 
tized him, much to the merriment of all the family. 

“Which,” [remarked Mrs. Howard, “has the 
best of the joke, Claude?” 

“Well,” said Claude, “I believe mammy got 
away with me this time.” 

Ollie next came running to show Aunt Tony his 
stock of fine things, his great black eyes dancing all 
the while with delight. The girls prepared magnifi¬ 
cent dinners and suppers for Paris, all of which 
passed with their usual familiar playfulness and 
gayety, and their hearts were filled with joy in 
having Paris with them. Aunt Tony, flounced and 
feathered for the “big ’casions,” was ever on hand, 
and amid the whisperings of the holly leaves and 
berries and other offerings of lovely flowers, the 
“merrie” days of Christmas at Flora Crysta passed 


112 


VESTA; 


unchallenged, mirrored in infinite variety of humor 
and pathos. 

The advent of Christmas in all Christian coun¬ 
tries fills every one with new life, revealing the mys¬ 
teries drawn from the birth of our Savior. The 
beautiful chants \yhich ascend from the houses of 
worship are touchingly divine, and yet these chants 
are but as drops to the ocean compared to the in¬ 
fluence of heavenly strains which swell from an¬ 
gelic inspiration. 

At the usual hour the family attended divine 
worship, Mrs. Howard never forgetting the out¬ 
pourings of love and joy due to God. In the after¬ 
noon the horses were all arrayed for a ride. 
Mounted on their favorite steeds, they passed in the 
direction of Linwood and on and on through the road 
leading to the city and its lovely environments. 
Through the holidays the resplendent festivities 
continued. 

Such was Christmas in Southern families before 
the war! Who of the olden time has not realized 
the joys of such occasions? Volumes might be 
written to show how many associations these 
family reunions are calculated to excite. They 
too, mark the progress of time. Another Christ¬ 
mas is come and our thoughts recall scenes and 
events since the last greetings ’neath the ancestral 
tree, and also of the moral conflicts going on, the 
more vivid when cups of sorrow are mingled with 
those of which we drink, 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS, 


113 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

PARIS’ RETURN TO THE ARMY. 

Oil the winding up of these pleasures, the day 
on which Paris was to return to his command, a 
noise was heard as of a horseman riding up to the 
gate. Paris was terrified, as he was certain of some 
new development in military affairs. The man was 
the bearer of a dispatch from Captain Lamar, inform¬ 
ing him of the supposed plan of the Federals, and 
soliciting him to return at once, as he was specially 
needed. “We wish now to concentrate forces as 
speedily as possible, and be ready at a moment’s no¬ 
tice to resist any attacks,” he wrote. 

There was no other alternative. Paris must again 
bid adieu to the loved ones, and direct his course on¬ 
ward to the field of action. 

The whole scene at Flora Crysta was changed, 
where all through the holidays had been so much 
merriment and laughter. Paris folded his arms 
around the dear forms and shed tears like rain in 
that mournful adieu. Driving on to take the train, 
tears flowed afresh, as he looked back and gazed 
fondly on the shadowy outline of his beautiful 
home. 

The news of the sudden departure of Paris flew in 
every direction, and many of his friends flocked 


114 


VESTA ; 


around the train to bid him “good-bye,” and to ex¬ 
press their hopes of his safe return. 

Tears again dimmed his vision, but he summoned 
his courage and once more rejoiced in being 
able to serve his country in its approaching crisis. 
A cloud of despair settled upon Mrs. Howard. Grand¬ 
ma tried to comfort the household. She remarked: 

“Paris is a good soldier and will honor his ances¬ 
try, I can only pray and let matters go on till God, 
in His infinite goodness, shall provide a remedy.” 
********* 

This parting^scene was followed by news which 
was the shadow of fearful events. It was in April 
after the holidays. The Confederates had achieved 
a grand success in their various movements against 
Hooker, yet they had met with a loss that could 
never be repaired! This was the fall of the great 
chieftain, Stonewall Jackson, as he was familiarly 
styled by the soldiery and the people of the Confed¬ 
erate States. The sad reflection attending so great 
a loss, was that the shot that proved so disastrous, 
came by mistake from his own lines. His death 
caused grief and mourning from the Potomac to the 
Rio Grande, and from the Ohio and Missouri to the 
Gulf and the Atlantic. 

He will live in history as the hero of Chancellors- 
ville, for it was he who planned the battle, and 
it was he who gave it development and deter¬ 
mined its success. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


115 


About this time, Captain Lamar, finding an op¬ 
portunity to convey a letter safely to Vesta, wrote 
as follows: 

“Headquarters Army of Virginia. 

“My Darling Vesta: 

“For so I feel at liberty to address you. I cannot describe 
to you,my emotions upon receiving your sweet, your charm¬ 
ing letter, sent oy Lieut. Camp. I know now that you love 
me, and knowing this, fills the measure of my soul. All that 
I am, dear Vesta, is yours; and may God spare my life to prove 
what I say. The glory of my manhood is yours, whenever you 
place yourself in my hands as you are now in my heart. 

“I honor your parents, but demand nothing from them 
more than my life’s necessity—their precious daughter. This 
jewel I shall seek to obtain by every honorable means. When 
these fail, I am ready for any plot or scheme by which I may 
secure what heaven ordains for me. 

“I must tell you that aunt and Pauline sailed for Europe 
two weeks since, where they will remain until the war closes— 
perhaps longer, as aunt’s interests are principally in London. 
Pauline will enter a convent, for which she entertains a won¬ 
derful fascination. She already exhibits talent and culture, 
both in science and belles-lettres , and being full of ambition, 
will, I hope, make a fine woman some day. 

“Some of my foreign friends would invert the very order of 
my being, by having me leave the South and join them in 
London; but my noble progenitors must learn of what stuff I 
am made. Sooner -would I die than desert my State. Aunt and 
Pauline are as patriotic as I am on this subject, and would 
leave me a sacrifice upon the battle-field, sooner than abandon 
the Confederacy. 

“This separation from you is too painful to even imagine, 
and how am I to see you! Will you, my darling, allow me to 
plan a meeting with you? The idea of its being clandestine 
amounts to nothing, since you are mine, Nor would it com¬ 
promise your honor as a woman. I simply desire one inter- 


116 


VESTA; 


view, in which I may assure you of many things I cannot com¬ 
mit to paper. For your love for me, write at once, and say 
you will meet me, and oh, God, I’ll die in the effort to look 
again in those beautiful eyes and press that sweet hand to my 
lips. 

“Pardon my haste in writing. I am surrounded by my 
associates in camp, and the chaplain is close by, in holy league 
with them all; so you see my embarrassment. 

“Bear with me. My heart is with you, and you must deal 
kindly with it. 

“A thousand *kisses I send you. 

“As ever, your devoted “Frederick. 

“^Excuse me and don’t get mad; I will take this back if 
you say so. “F.” 

After writing this letter, the ignus fatuus of hope 
cheered Captain Lamar’s bosom, and he again sur¬ 
rendered himself to military movements, which were 
irresistibly pressing both armies. 

* -X- * * * * * • * 

Vesta received the letter, but as the bearer was 
suddenly called off at night, she had no way of re¬ 
plying, so she waited for further developments. 

Her mind was oppressed with perplexities she 
could not control. Major DeKray was an oc¬ 
casional guest at Flora Crysta, availing himself of 
every opportunity his position in war afforded him 
to extend his courtesies to Judge Howard. He had 
already paid his addresses to Vesta, and had done so 
with the permission of her father, who favored his 
attentions, and who was struggling for dear life to 
break loose Vesta’s preference for Captain Lamar. 

“The charm of DeKray’s manners,” said Judge 
Howard, “has never lost power over me, and how 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


117 


is it that Vesta does not take to him as I would 
have her do?” 

“I cannot account for it,” replied Mrs. Howard, 
“but you know Vesta’s admiration for Frederick 
Lamar was kindled long ago, and it will be a difficult 
task to supplant him in her heart.” 

“Speak not of such nonsense, wife; all this has 
vanished with the past—such ideas impoverish me. 
Vesta must bear in mind that Lamar is a poor man, 
and that DeKray owns millions. It is money that 
we want now, and must have after this war is over. 
Vesta must marry Warren DeKray, and she can re¬ 
tain her position in society, and hold her claims to 
Flora Crysta.” 

“Be it so,” replied Mrs. Howard, “Captain La¬ 
mar is certainly the most agreeable of the two in ques¬ 
tion, and inspires everyone with respect. I do not 
think Major DeKray, however, has many equals 
for gallantry and eloquence, but he can never shake 
off the habits of a Frenchman, which to Vesta would 
be appalling.” 

“But in addition to his money, there is that 
armor of superior rank he bears, which renders 
him indifferent to the world, and which I like,” said 
Judge Howard. 

“There is an ill savor, however, in his attentions 
to Louise Angelo that I don’t like,” replied Mrs. 
Howard. 

“As to that, it makes no kind of difference, as he 
utterly despises her sort,” remarked the Judge. 
“Vesta knows nothing about this, nor could any girl 


118 


VESTA; 


at her age understand a man’s position in such a 
matter. Measured by any high standard, DeKray 
will not be found wanting.” 

This was Judge Howard’s way of thinking, and 
Mrs. Howard, ever ready to acquiesce with him in all 
matters pertaining to the welfare of their children, 
made no further remarks on the subject. 

* #**-*** * 

Vesta was dressed for an evening ride with Major 
DeKray. She looked more beautiful than ever in a 
fine blue silk, elaborately trimmed with Duchess lace 
and hat to correspond, and plumes in rich pro¬ 
fusion. In a few moments a magnificent carriage, 
with fiery steeds attached, appeared before the gate. 
Major DeKray alighted, and soon the two were com¬ 
fortably arranged for the afternoon drive. The route 
was in the direction of the city, where every eye dwelt 
upon them as they passed up one street and down the 
other. Major DeKray dwelt with rapturous delight 
on her beautiful face, while others echoed her praise, 
and as a proof of her superior grace, she preserved 
her usual elegance and modesty. 

“That will be a match,” said a gentleman, gaz¬ 
ing on the two as they passed. 

“You are mistaken in this,” said another, “for 
Miss Vesta is, I believe, engaged to Captain Lamar.” 

“You know,” remarked the former, “that Judge 
Howard is ambitious to have his daughter wed 
money, and this.arrangement is a matter of policy. 
The mutual attachment existing between Lamar 
and Miss Vesta is of no consequence to him,” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


119 


“Well, anyway, he will never control her repug¬ 
nance to DeKray and an alliance of this kind.” 

“You’ll see if you live, if the old Judge don’t con¬ 
summate his purpose.” 

In the course of the drive, Major DeKray could 
not let so f avorable an opportunity pass without mak¬ 
ing known his sentiments, and the power of love over 
his heart. But all this deepened her devotion to Cap¬ 
tain Lamar. She affirmed that she did not entertain 
thoughts of marrying, and that justice impelled 
her to be candid. As to what she might do, she left 
him to conjecture. Despair hung menacingly over the 
future of the Major’s life, yet the “might be” was still 
cherished and was like a rainbow to his hopes, and 
he determined to treasure it at the risk of everything. 

On their return home, Vesta, alone in her own 
room, began to feel the struggle between her 
father’s wishes and her love for Frederick. 

“Father constrains me so to dissimulate that I 
am ashamed. He forces me to play the part of a 
coquette, which I abhor. Why,” she said to 
herself, “does father reject Frederick? He has 
every endearing quality to render me happy. 
He is amiable and bears an unblemished char¬ 
acter; besides, he entertains a high esteem for 
the family, and father might influence him in 
many ways, and I am sure I can never love any 
other man. What I want in a husband is cen¬ 
tered in Frederick. I will die before I will prosti¬ 
tute my mind in a union with another man with 


120 


VESTA; 


whom I have no sympathy, and for whom I enter¬ 
tain no love.” 

With a palpitating heart, she continued in her 
room entertaining those melancholy love dreams, in 
which her mind had been so long indulging, and 
which she cared not to banish. 

Taking a rose from her vase, she was reminded 
of a song admired by her lover, in which the follow¬ 
ing words seemed to soothe her aching heart: 

“This rose to calm my inmost cares, 

A message now to Frederick bears. 

It says, l to-night I will prolong, 

For sweet relief, his sweetest song; 

And though the notes are somewhat sad, 

I’ll sing again at strain more glad, 

With some faint hope my altered lay 
May drive these gloomy thoughts away.’ ” 

Vesta’s meditations closed with the song, and 
brightening her face, assuming an air of cheerful¬ 
ness, she joined Claude and the girls in a twilight 
walk among the flowers. 


OR,cTHE HIDDEN CROSS. 


121 


CHAPTER XIX. 

MIKE BARNABY. 

In the romantic regions surrounding Flora Crys- 
ta, was a tract of land almost totally sequestered 
from the world, and, as it were, isolated with respect 
to societ}^. There were precipitous rocks, down 
which beautiful cascades were falling in lines of 
foam. The tops of some of the rocks seemed to form 
pinnacles. The fields cleared up around were ver¬ 
dant and productive. Intersecting the fields was 
a rapid stream, from which an abundance of fish was 
often caught, but it was so inaccessible that but 
few persons frequented it. 

On a bright, June day, a hunter was wending his 
way through the tangled beauties of the woodland. 
His gun was thrown across his shoulder, a cap 
was on. his head, his powder flask was attached to 
a belt buckled over a dark-blue jacket, and panta¬ 
loons of the same material were stuffed in boots that 
extended above his knees. He bore the air of an 
intrepid Louisiana swamper, contented with a 
blissful ignorance of the world and untainted by 
desires which he knew could never be gratified. 

Accompanying the hunter was his daughter, a 
fourteen-year-old girl, clad in the habiliments of 
rustic simplicity, with a straw hat under her arm 
and her dress tucked up so as to give her speed. 


122 


vesta; 


She was the ideality of grace and rustic beauty, a 
truthful picture of nature, with all the animation 
of a Hebe; but instead of the eagle, she caressed a 
dog standing by her, which jumped and caught at 
her long, golden curls, flowing in untrained profu¬ 
sion over her rosy, plump form. 

The father had discovered a drove of quails that 
had flown from a steep rock and, carried away with 
an eager desire to possess himself of them, he called 
Nell, who stealthily approached, knowing from 
instinct his motive, handing her the shotgun and bid¬ 
ding her fire into them at once. She took deliberate 
aim, fired, and the shot scattered in every direction, 
piercing a number of the birds, and'making the 
woods ring with their cries of exultation. To their 
very great amazement, at this moment a gentleman, 
dressed in Confederate uniform, stepped from be¬ 
hind the rock. The hunter shuddered as he thus 
accosted him: 

“You seem to be in search of game.” 

“Yes, and you liked to have been my game,” said 
the hunter in his rough way; “you’d better mind 
how you walk through these woods so quiet, with¬ 
out giving signs to folks as you pass.” 

“I’ll surely be more cautious in the future. I am 
fond of hunting, and would like to try my hand on 
some of your birds.” 

“Well, you can; but the birds and: varmints here 
have been shot at so much they are kind of scared 
off, and are as wild as young colts,” 


OR,. THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


123 


“You have beautiful woods around here; and, I 
see, sir, you have a charming young girl with you. 
I suppose she is your daughter.” 

“Yes, that’s Nell, my oldest gal; and, you bet, 
folks say she’s a ‘chip of the old block,’ causeshecar- 
ries death and destruction to these varmints round 
here; whenever she pints a gun, you may look for 
squalls.” 

Nell had by this time gathered up the bleeding 
birds, and retraced her steps to where her father 
and the fine gentleman were talking. 

“Pap,” said she, “I could have saved the last one 
of them with another lick, for I never had a steadier 
hand in my life.” 

“So you could, but mind hereafter how you 
shoot, or you might hit one of these brass-button 
fellows trampin’ through these woods, for this very 
man came mighty nigh makin’ a breastwork for 
them partridges you smashed up.” 

Amused at this introduction to the young Diana, 
he remarked : “If Miss Nell was armed with Cupid’s 
bow and arrow, you might say she’d slay me.” 

“I don’t know exactly who he is, but you see we 
don’t use them kind of weapons around here, cause 
shotguns are better, and as for this old horse (re¬ 
ferring to his gun), he’s better than anything you 
ever saw handled.” 

At this moment, Nell scampered off to some little 
distance, and they next beheld her in the top of a 
large black-gum tree, gathering honeysuckles from 
a vine that had climbed upon its trunk. Securing 


124 


VESTA; 


her hands full, she threw them down, and as nim¬ 
bly as a squirrel, came right after them. The sol¬ 
dier begged she’d give him “only a little flower.” 
With a sweet and’artless manner, she replied: 

“If Pap says so, you can have one.” 

The old hunter pulled one and handed it to him, 
remarking as he did so : 

“You are welcome to as many as you please, 
but I can’t see what use you can put them to, 
’cause flowers and this cussed business of war 
don’t go mighty well together as much so as 
they’d go with Mexicans or redskins.” 

“Listen, Pa,” said Nell, “the dinner-horn is 
blowing for us,” and the three walked in the 
direction of the hamlet about one mile distant. The 
hunter observed to the soldier: 

“Well, you might as well come along and take 
“pot-luck” with us; we’ll give you as good as we’ve 
got. Sal’s biling poke salad and turnip-greens, and 
they’re a mighty fine thing to wash out a 
man, and you soldiers I reckon needs cleaning; be¬ 
sides, Nell’s sheep got caught yesterday and was 
hurt so bad we killed him, and I suppose we’ll 
have mutton chops, and I don’t reckon a little 
sheep mixed with you fellows would hurt much, 
when there are so many goats among you.” 

In reply, the soldier laughed heartily, but was 
so much captivated by the novelty of his new ac¬ 
quaintance, he accepted his offer of hospitality, and 
they went at once to the house to enjoy a full re¬ 
past from the bill of fare given. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


125 


They were met at the door by the frugal moth¬ 
er of the family and conducted to the table, where 
seated on stools, they enjoyed a hearty meal, Nell 
acting as waiter, and the little urchins hanging 
down their heads, and stealing an occasional glance 
at the soldier. 

A cup of water was served to the stranger; 
glancing mysteriously at the cup, he remarked, it 
was “something strange to him.” 

“That,” said Barnaby, “is my cup I used in the 
Mexican war; it was given to me by a sick man I 
nursed while the breath was leaving his body.” 

“I observe it is curiously carved, and there is 
an inscription on it in the Spanish language, but so 
indistinct I cannot decipher it.” 

“Well, is you a Spaniard,” remarked Barnaby. ’ 

“No, sir; I am a native of New Orleans, but I 
read French and Spanish quite fluently.” 

“Well, what’s your name? I meant to ask you 
so as to tell Sal, but I forgot it.” 

“My name, sir, is DeKray. I suppose from what 
your wife called you, your name is Barnaby.” 

“Yes, that’s what they dub me—guess my dad¬ 
dy left me the title—but most folks call me Mike.” 

“Mike Barnaby, that’s quite a heroic name. 
Were you in the Mexican war?” 

“That’s just whar I wus, and got a wound 
that keeps me out of this war’gainst the Yanks.” 

“You were under Taylor.” 

“That’s so. I was at Buena Vista, when the 
General hollered out: ‘A little more grape, Cap- 


126 


VESTA ; 


tain Bragg/ and you bet your bottom dollar we 
give ’em more than was called for.” 

“Your general, too, made a most desperate as¬ 
sault upon Monterey?” 

“Yes, them Mexicans give us hell in that place 
—from windows, houses and barricades—but you see, 
us boys blotched our way through the walls, and 
when our boys got near that place they called 
the ‘Grand Plaza,’ the inimy kinder give up, and 
we got em. By and by old Scott come along and 
whipped out Vera Cruz, and Mexico City; this 
suited me and the big dog got the bone.” 

“I suppose,” said the soldier, “you liked mili¬ 
tary life.” 

“Well, I did and I didn’t. It’s pretty tough on 
a fellow—but, Major, for I suppose that’s your title 
from them signs on your coat—that wreath and a 
star—how does it happen you military men has 
such fat, greasy times; it didn’t use to happen with 
us soldiers in the Mexican war?” 

“You are mistaken, sir; our soldiers have a 
most awful time. These men you see general^ are 
sent out as strategists and have much to do that 
you know not.” 

“Well, I see lots of brass buttons, and I low’d 
many of ’em was bullet-proof fellows, that spludged 
in ’em. “Well, I’m glad they is all right, and I hope 
they’ll help drive the last Yank to the North Pole 
and then pitch ’em in the ice ocean.” 

Dinner being over, the Major was invited to take 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


127 


a seat out in the cool shade and join in a smoke 
from an old pipe, the property of Mrs. Barnaby. 

Pulling a beautiful meerschaum from his pocket 
and a bag of fine smoking tobacco, he presented it 
to her, and begged that she would “smoke to his 
health” in his absence. She courtesied to him and 
assured him she had never received such a present 
before in her whole life. 

At this moment a little girl passed, and Barna¬ 
by, calling her, presented her to Major DeKray, as 
Vesta Howard Barnaby. 

“Ah!” said the Major, “Vesta is a beautiful 
name.” 

“Yes/* said Mrs. Barnaby, “and tell the man, 
that Miss Vesta Howard that named you is a 
mighty beautiful young lady.” 

“Come, little Miss Vesta, and read me the book 
you have in your hand.” The child turned to a 
touching little story, and read to Major DeKray, 
saying as she finished : 

“Miss Vesta teached me to read and she says she 
is going to teach me to play the pianny, and I’m her 
girl.” 

The Major drew the little girl to him and 
kissed her. 

******** 

While the Major and Barnaby were engaging 
in a spirited conversation, a very, very old lad} r 
came hobblingfrom the house, leaning on a stick. As 
she approached, Barnaby introduced her to the 
Major. She caught the hand of the strange gen- 


128 


VESTA; 


tleman and looking up into his face, said inaudiblv: 
“Fortune for the brave.” 

The Major made no reply, but looked to 
Barnaby for an explanation. 

“She means she wants to tell your fortune, and 
she gets thar when it comes to this sort of busi¬ 
ness.” 

Turning his face to her again, he assured her he 
would be glad to learn his destiny. She wildly 
grasped his hand and looking into it, drew some¬ 
thing from an old pocket containing all kinds of 
charms, her eyelids turned up. She continued in 
this attitude a few seconds, then, drawing her lids 
down with her hands, said: 

“You are born for good luck and money; you 
will marry and you will have a house full of brats; 
you will have lots of houses and barns and cows, 
but no niggers as they will be set free; you’s courtin’ 
a rich gal, but you is going to marry a stranger, 
and get money, money.” 

With these words, the old sybil raised her eyes 
again and then told the Major to get up out of his 
chair. She then informed him that he would never 
be killed in war; and that he might light every day 
and every hour, but he would not be hurt. 

Major DeKray was incredulous, and little 
more than amused at the wonderful revelation. 
Pulling out a Confederate bill, he gave it to her 
and thanked her for revealing his destiny to him so 
skillfully and truthfully. She refused the money, 
but bade him give it to the first his eyes fell upon 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


129 


after she had 'Wounted a certain number, and that 
good luck would attend him. At the signal given, 
his eyes fell upon little Mike, Barnaby’s son, pass¬ 
ing by driving a cow to a pasture. The old lady 
assured him that the money would bring prosper¬ 
ity to the family, as well as to himself. 

Barnaby then explained to the Major that the 
old lady was really his wife’s grandmother; that 
she came from Scotland and was a believer in the 
old Highlanders’ superstitions and that she raised 
her eyes that she might see materialized spirits that 
haunted the woods around. It was true that this 
family believed in this old lady’s invisible oracles, 
and that to see them, she must rqise her eyelids and 
hold them in that condition until the spirits van¬ 
ished. To see a person still sitting in a chair when 
vacated is a sign that the person will not die, but 
will live to accomplish some purpose. 

The young girls at Flora Crysta had often con¬ 
sulted the old sybil and the impressions she made on 
them were indeed quite ludicrous. Claude acknow¬ 
ledged himself quite disordered when she prophe¬ 
sied he would be wounded, and her prophecy was 
fulfilled. At last, Major DeKray arose to say good¬ 
bye to the family, assuring them of the pleasure 
derived from his visit, and promising to come again. 
Barnaby accompanied him through the woods. 
Passing Flora Crysta he caught a glance at the 
beautiful faces of the girls, bowed graciously and 
passed on. 


130 


VESTA ; 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE MOUNTAIN TOURISTS. 

In the summer before General Grant took pos¬ 
session of the Federal forces around Chattanooga, 
or rather, before the great battles of Chickamauga 
were fought, a party was formed by Captain 
Seward of the army of Virginia and Major DeKray, 
to make a tour to Lookout Mountain. No sooner 
was the excursion arranged than the greatest ardor 
was shown by pleasure seekers to engage in it. 

The young ladies of Flora Crysta were specially 
solicited to join them, aftd through the influence of 
Major DeKray, Judge Howard consented for them 
to do so. Such an excursion at this time furnished 
an occasion for useful observation, and was attend¬ 
ed with no danger from the militar}' operations of 
either section. 

Happie and Katrine were quite elated with the 
prospect, but Vesta reluctantly yielded in joining 
them. Claude was, as usual, on hand and ready 
for anything that would promote life and gayety. 
The tourists left on the evening of the twentieth of 
June for the mountain. They landed at Atlanta and 
from thence took the train to Chattanooga, and 
thence to the Lookout Mountain. Every heart 
was aglow with poetic enthusiasm over the scenic 
splendor. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


131 


Captain Seward was Vesta’s special escort. 
A singularly handsome young man, his voice was 
charming, pouring over the soul a flood of music 
when called on to sing. At the hotel, he joined the 
girls in songs of noble harmony. 

The morning after their arrival, Captain Sew¬ 
ard proposed to go forth and view the beautiful 
scenery from the summit. The carriages were 
brought out and the tourists ventured forth. 
Looking downward, they beheld a vast succession of 
lovely scenes, ridges and peaks through the fog-like 
vapor floating around them, landscapes of green 
lawns, and at the base, the winding Tennessee. 

On reaching the top, the young people were im¬ 
pressed with the immensity of vision, for it extended 
miles and miles away. 

“Hark!” said Claude, “What is that I hear, and 
who are they?” 

At that moment two men passed, one singing 
“Dixie” at the very pitch of his voice— 

“But who are all these people?” 

“Come here I reckon to wave their hands at the 
Confederates as they retreat,” said the other. 

This for a moment startled the girls, but they 
were soon quieted and continued their excursions, 
wandering at ease among the broken cliffs. 

About this time, Captain Seward, finding a 
favorable opportunity, remarked to Vesta that he 
desired a private interview with her, and 
walking aloof from the crowd, gently guided her, 
without any apparent motive, to a secluded place. 


132 


VESTA; 


“The scenery,” remarked Vesta, “gains a deli¬ 
cious charm the further we extend our rambles.” 

At this moment two gentlemen emerged from an 
abrupt opening, and to her utter astonishment, Cap¬ 
tain Lamar and Lieutenant Camp were recognized. 
Perfectly overcome, she turned pale and sat down. 

“Is this a dream, or am I in your real presence, 
Frederick?” she remarked. 

“No, no,” he answered; “it is my own planning 
that brought you here—but you will forgive me. I 
have taken advantage of this ambush, taking you 
by surprise, and now leaving you no defence but to 
grant me the interview desired in my last letter—an 
unusual style of meeting a young lady, but it was my 
only alternative.” At this, the young men retired a 
short distance off, and left the two alone. 

“Frederick, are you mad? Who can penetrate 
the trouble this meeting will bring upon me?” 

“Darling,you are mine, and who shall deteryou 
from meeting me? Cheer up, and for a few mo¬ 
ments let the dews of love descend upon my poor 
heart. Look up, speak to me and assure me you 
are the same, and by the gods, lam a happy man.” 
Vesta arose to new life, and her great heart bursting 
its chains, she declared her unchanged devotion. 

“Give me your hand, my darling, and swear 
before high heaven you’ll never marry DeKray.” 

“I swear,” she said, “and my oath is registered 
in heaven.” 

“If God grants me a safe return from the war, 
I shall once more appeal to your father to grant his 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


188 


permission to our union. If herejects me, I’ll marry 
you though I die in the effort.” 

“This much I say, that if he denies me, I’ll marry 
you or forever give up the world.” Here the two 
lovers walked slowly among the rocks in mysterious 
isolation. They both grew melancholy in view of 
the painful separation that must ensue. 

“Of all places, this is to me, my angel, the most 
impressive, the most enchanting, the dearest, the 
sweetest I have ever known.” 

“To me it is the same,” said Vesta. 

Taking from his pocket an elegant diamond ring, 
with a chain attached to it, he said, “Let me place 
this on your neck, and wear it for your own Fred¬ 
erick.” 

She removed her hat and the chain was 
placed just where he desired, concealed from the eyes 
of the world. 

“It is but now that we say good-bye, Frederick, 
but this is a memorable day, and I shall linger under 
its spell until we meet again.” 

“God bless you, my sweet darling! Will you let 
me impress one kiss upon your cheek. It will be 
given with the holiest vow.” 

Vesta, in her extreme modesty and delicacy, re¬ 
fused the proffered kiss, but, handing her hand to 
him, allowed it pressed and kissed again and again. 

“Bear this cross,” handing him an elegantly- 
carved cross; “and in the tide of battle remember 
its bearing, and what it so beautifully symbolizes. 
I’ll plead losing it to the relatives, but, oh! for you, 


134 


VESTA: 


my own, the serpent of untruth winds its evils only 
on my tongue. My heart is true, and God knows 
it. Farewell!” 

“Speak not this word, Vesta; it is like a death 
knell.” Many words were spoken in the prolonged 
interview. 

“I feel I shall yet live to claim you at the hy¬ 
meneal altar, and that your bloom and beauty will 
deck my own life.” 

“Dear object of my heart, adieu! The time for 
my going is come, but my prayers for you I leave.” 
Feeling himself roused and strengthened and borne 
on by a manly devotion, he bent to kiss her. Upon 
leaving, she kissed him, and then walked in the direc¬ 
tion of Captain Howard and Lieutenant Camp. 

Captain Lamar’s eyes revealed all that had pass¬ 
ed ; words that could not speak, and a glorious pur¬ 
pose on which his life was staked. It was a strange 
interview which sent thrills of hope through two 
despairing hearts. 

“Thank God,” said Captain Lamar, “for the 
token,” as he pressed the cross to his bosom. 
“Camp,” he said, “I shall go to my command with 
more pleasurable emotions. Let’s go, and I will 
confide to you the pleasant ministrations which 
now make my life happiness.” 

Captain Seward and Vesta retraced their steps 
in the direction of the crowd, and in confidence, he 
unfolded to her the plot by which this meeting was 
brought about. He had been the instrument in get¬ 
ting up the excursion, which was accomplished 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


135 


throughJMaj or DeKray, the one who least suspected 
his motives. 

“Do yon think, Captain, that I have in any 
w ay compromised myself by all owing the interview 
after meeting Captain Lamar.” 

“By no means, my dear Miss Vesta. You 
have only elevated yourself in the estimation of 
Lieutenant Camp and myself; and, we alone know of 
this meeting.” 

“Thank you for so expressing yourself.” 

“Right here, let me assure you, you have left 
a monument, the loveliest which poetry and love 
can devise.” 

“I do so much appreciate your good opinion, 
and more the estimate you place upon my friend, 
Captain Lamar.” 

“I know, Miss Vesta, that your father would 
have you marry DeKray. Not wishing to disparage 
the Major, Captain Lamar is the grandest man in 
the South. He is like ‘gold in the crucible,’ tried 
and sure—” 

“But here comes Claude and Aunt Happie to 
meet us; they seem always to mirror the enjoyments 
of life, on all occasions, and ‘laugh back the sunshine 
with added splendor.’ ” 

“Reverend Father,” said Happie, “where have 
you been? I thought you had gone into the clouds.” 

Captain Seward replied, “We’ve been pretty 
secure in a little rocky eyrie over there, which is quite 
impregnable to all intruders.’ ” 


136 


VESTA; 


“Well, you’ve missed a treat,” said Claude, “for 
since you left we’ve been to the Devil’s Pulpit.” 

“Yes,” said Happie, “andgot a sermon from his 
Satanic majesty, with such auditors as Claude.” 

Major DeKray remarked that they surely had 
missed the great slabs of rock piled up like a pulpit, 
and the crowd made a hurried jaunt to the palisades, 
found all along the wooded and rocky retreats. 
They also took in the College, a sky-aspiring acade¬ 
my, with the wonderful and magical stimulants of a 
mountain “Alma Mater” They also visited the 
Lake, Cascade and Lula Falls. The grand escarp¬ 
ments of Lookout Mountain,the towering palisades 
and rocky eyries were soon to be the scenes of war. 
How melancholy the thought! 

At length the tourists, quite wearied out, 
returned to their hotel. The young ladies retired to 
their room to prepare for an entertainment given in 
compliment to them. Vesta excused herself as she felt 
quite unwell. 

The excursions on the day following were 
incomparably delightful, with beautiful sunlight 
and balmy air, the richness of vet dure and bloom, 
mountain rock and cascade, and the lovely Ten¬ 
nessee, with its infinite windings, in its serene repose, 
as grand and attractive as the very heaven it images. 

The crowd left the next morning, at six o’clock, 
and many friends were out to see them off. All 
along the route, Vesta’s mind was divided between 
love and admiration of the lovely scenes, and the 
strange meeting with Frederick. “I feel myself in a 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


187 


different world now from the one in which I have 
heretofore dwelt,” she said to herself, “butoh!how 
I miss those dark-blue eyes, and that sweet, melodi¬ 
ous voice that so unexpectedly greeted me on that 
mountain. Frederick! the most loyal and devoted 
man I ever knew !” The train by this time reached 
Atlanta, and the young people being compelled to 
wait over anight, were conducted to the best resorts 
of the city, where they were invited to participate 
in a dancing entertainment for the evening. 

Atlanta seemed cheerful and charming. Notwith¬ 
standing the anxiety of many of its citizens in re¬ 
gard to the advance of the army south, there was 
everywhere, such a-rush and rattle and “animating 
tumult of business.’’ There was an ever-varying 
panorama of humanity. A troop of fine-looking sol¬ 
diers, now the streets thronged with elegant ladies, 
now a number of fine turnouts, and now a funeral 
procession. The entertainment was opened when 
the time arrived, with dancing, being conducted in 
a most superb manner. There was a fine band of 
musicians, and quite a distinguished gathering. 
The young ladies entered the dance. Vesta was 
more admired than any young lady in the ball¬ 
room. She was dressed in a manner to display fully 
the graces of her person, her long, beautiful hair 
waving loosely over her exquisitely-moulded shoul¬ 
ders; she, however, felt no pride or pleasure in the 
attentions shown her, as her mind was wholly ab¬ 
sorbed in the scene at the mountain, and to the dis- 


188 


vesta; 


appointment of many, she retired early to her 
room. 

“Miss Howard certainly is a beautiful girl,” 
passed from lip to lip. 

“Is she not elegant in the dance?” said another; 
“a model of perfect grace.” 

The next morning many beautiful flowers were 
sent to Vesta in token of admiration, which were re¬ 
ceived and acknowledged with her usual dignity. 

Of the happiness of the girls after such a pleas¬ 
ant tour there can be but little doubt. They reach¬ 
ed home in safety, and had much to relate of the 
enchanting scenery of Lookout Mountain. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


189 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE WERNERS. 

“Do come here, sister, you and Vesta, and read 
this stunning and unexpected note from Viola 
Werner, addressed to us all under the same signa¬ 
ture. Bless me! if we don’t live in a gigantic age, 
specially for wartimes, you may say, I’ll give up the 
ghost,” said Happie, as she read the following: 
“Miss Happie Stafford: 

“I am arranging the house to give a party to-morrow even¬ 
ing, and father and mother, brother John and my step-sister, 
join me in the request to have you, Miss Katrine and Miss 
Yesta Howard attend, accompanied by your nephew Claude, 
if he will honor us with his fine appearance. 

“Your very considerate friend, 

“Viola Werner. 

“Please excuse this paper. We desired printed tickets, but 
could not get them up in season. “V. W.” 

“And how didyou reply?”said Mrs. Howard. 

“Here’s my answer, which I submit to you. Of 
course, we’ll not refuse such a cordial invitation, 
on so momentous an occasion.” 

“Miss Viola: 

“You will present my gratitude to your father, mother, 
brother John and step-sister, and say to them that we accept 
their polite invitation and will bring Claude, who highly ap¬ 
preciates the compliment conveyed. 

“Your friend with returned considerations, 

“Happie Stafford. 

“Your paper is excused since you could not get up printed 
tickets. “R* S*” 


140 


VESTA ; 


“Why, Aunt Happie,” said Vesta, “why did you 
go all around the world to reply, and deal in 
such criticism as I deem this.” 

Mrs. Howard laughed, and remarked: “You bad 
girl; you should not make sport of Miss Viola, for 
she is real clever and nice.” 

“Really, sister, I am not making sport, but you 
see these Werners are elaborate folks. I am only 
adapting myself to their code of etiquette.” 

At this moment other notes came, one from 
Major DeKray to Vesta and another from John 
Werner to the other girls, asking to escort them to 
the party, which were duly accepted. 

The Werners were people who had suddenly 
arisen in the world, from the big fortune left them 
in Germany, and which was beyond reach of the 
United States government; hence, they were courted 
and patronized by everybody, notwithstanding 
their utter ignorance of the usages and convention¬ 
alities of society. As Happie said,'“everybody was 
soliciting their pictures, and that they were no 
longer bored with the gear that kept them in 
bounds.” 

“You may depend,” said she, “I know nothing 
about these Werners or their satellites, but I’ll 
have my fun with ‘Bud John.’ ” 

“I wish, Aunt Happie, you’d capture John,” re¬ 
marked Claude, “for I tell you he’s got the dimes 
and knows what to do with them.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


141 


“Well, Claude, as my love trials are pretty well 
over, I guess I’ll strike Mr. Werner’s fine attractions 
(money) and see how I succeed.” 

“He’s surely got the whole English ‘literate’ on 
this subject,” replied Claude. “And in addition, a 
substitute in war. 

“How fine it would be to speak of Lady Werner, 
without the appendage of an old grey uniform 
hanging to me; but—but, I believe I’d rather be 
Mrs. I—; yes, Mrs. Captain I—, with a legacy of 
an old sword, a saddle, bridle and a few old Confed¬ 
erate bonds, redeemable in Southern glory.” 

“What heroic sentiments, girl; when did you 
arrive from the seat of war?” replied Claude. 

“This A. M.” said Happie; “will return to-mor¬ 
row, and take along such men as you and John 
Werner.” 

“Well, for the present I’ll honor my country with 
my best inclinations, and at no distant date, with 
my Winchester rifle,” replied Claude. 

“Well, Claude,” said Happie, “what is the mat¬ 
ter with you, anyway, that keeps you from going 
back to your command? I have long wanted to know. 
Is it epilepsy, catalepsy, cachexy or apoplexy? Let 
me be doctor, and stick a few leeches to your skin, 
and get all that mean blood out of you, and you’ll be 
0. K.” 

“You are leech enough, Aunt Happie, without 
applying more; but foolishness aside, how do you 
like MissWiola Werner?” 

“Well enough. You know she is aplebe b}' birth, 
but patrician by assumption,” replied Happie. 


142 


VESTA; 


“Much you know of plebes and patricians. 
Might as well talk about magi or mussulmen, ,, an¬ 
swered Claude. 

“Then, to answer your question, Hike Viola; to 
say the least, she is much handsomer than John, 
for—did you ever think of it, Claude—he has a nose 
so much like a camel that it makes me pine for 
Asia Minor.” 

“Fie! children,” said Mrs. Howard; “cease 
your silly talk.” 

Just then Vesta struck up an air on the piano, 
and Claude was in ecstasies over “L’lncantatrice.” 

“Miss Viola will give us highly entertaining 
nasal recitals with her voice at the party,” said 
Happie to Claude, “and you ought certainly to 
take Barnaby along with his fiddle, and with you 
and your banjo, what grand music we would have.” 

The girls retired to their rooms to prepare for 
the party, leaving Claude looking over selections 
from Favorita, Fidelio and Orpheus. 

******** 

“Another young lady has taken her place among 
the acknowledged divinities of society,” said Major 
DeKray to Claude, as the two were awaiting the 
appearance of Vesta in the parlor to go to the party. 

“Indeed she has,” remarked Claude, “in theper- 
son of the accomplished Miss Viola Werner. She is 
so polite and elegant that I recognize your element 
in her (French).” 

Vesta, at this, stepped in arrayed in pure white, 
without any ornaments, looking as beautiful as an 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


143 


angel, and announced herself ready to go. Happie 
and Katrine joined them at the gate, and in a few 
moments they all drove up before the magnificent 
residence of the Werners. They were met at the door 
by Miss Viola. The young ladies were conducted 
to the dressing-room, while the young men were 
ushered into the parlor. 

The pleasures of the evening were opened by a 
piano solo by Miss Viola, which was loud and long. 
In the meantime, Claude was bending over the 
attractive performer. 

“Will you favor us with a song?” said he.* 

‘ ‘I only sing for my own amusement, ’ ’ she replied; 
“but if you really desire, I’ll*give you a German 
opera.” 

“Thanks,” said Claude. I prefer German music 
to any other.” 

She rattled away, with as little music in her 
voice as a spinet. Claude expressed unbounded 
admiration of the piece, and Happie, stepping up, 
remarked, “Do, Miss Viola, repeat that for Claude’s 
sake.” 

Her father insisted she should sing the 
“White Squall” instead, which she did to perfec¬ 
tion. It was then suggested that her sister should 
favor the guests with music. Taking out of a box a 
most beautifully inlaid accordion, one jig followed 
another in rapid succession, much to the merriment 
of every one present. 

“Nothing,” remarked Mr. Werner, “shows up a 
man’s heart like good music. I am an old sailor. 


144 


VESTA; 


and when I was at sea and my vessel lying in the 
tropics, with the tar swelling out of her seams’ 
and likely to stay there for a month, a good song 
kept me from thinking too much about home. I 
want my girls to learn all those old sea pieces. 
They rub tears from an old salt’s eyes.” 

Everyone around importuned Mr. Werner to sing 
one of these songs. He complied, and pitching 
his voice, joined by his daughter Ida, sang “The 
Anchor’s Weighed,” “Dublin Bay,” “The Florida 
Cre\^,” and “The Sailor Lad,” every piece of which 
was truly enjoyable and heartily appreciated. He 
called the attention of the guests to the fact that 
“Ida was 3 regular sea-gull, and learned from his 
shipmates to play the accordion.” 

Supper was announced. Mr. Werner then led 
the way into the dining-room, where a sumptuous 
exhibition of everything eatable was presented. 
Fruits from every clime, preserved before the war, 
were served, with wines in profusion. 

Claude was standing by Miss Viola, and handing 
her a nut, invited her to eat a “pliilopoena,” saying: 
“If you catch me, I’ll give you myself; and if I catch 
you, why, of course, I’ll claim you, for the rule, you 
know, must work both ways.” 

“Of course, I’ll agree to this, and Major De- 
Kray and Miss Happie will bear witness.” 

In an undertone Major DeKray remarked to 
Happie; “Do tell me if you have given Mr. Werner 
the go-by, for he is looking unusually pensive this 
evening?” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


145 


“Ah! you’d better not suppose this, for that 
margin of pink flesh on his cheeks and those soft 
blue eyes speak differently! And oh! Major, that 
mouth almost reaching his ears when he laughs, 
showing wrinkles like rays of a rising sun. How 
irresistible!” 

“Miss Ida is an interesting girl, is she not, Miss 
Happy?” “And as young and interesting as an at¬ 
tenuated skeleton of a chrome yellow moon, which 
has only a few days to last,”- finished Happie. 

“Miss Happie, please inform me who the young 
lady by Miss Vesta is, who is this moment speak¬ 
ing to her?” 

“That, Major, is Miss Virginia Keele; she 
belongs to a class of apes, if you know what I mean.” 

“I comprehend; and who is the matured lady 
by her?” 

“That is her very distinguished ‘mama.’ The 
young girl at the left is Mis.s Julia Proctor, from 
Galveston; she is without jest, a true and lovely 
girl.” 

“I met Miss Proctor once and all you can say 
in her praise is correct. Miss Keele’s manner im¬ 
presses me.” 

“I guess so, and her dress more, as it covers the 
whole field of astronomy. This dress, I think, 
fully demonstrates her last results at scientific in¬ 
vestigation,” said Happie. 

“You are a case, Miss Happie.” 

“Major, do watch Mrs. Keele; how complacently 
she eyes Virginia—just as a sculptor turns to gaze 
on his own work of perfection.” 


146 


VESTA ; 


“Who is her husband?” 

“Oh, she says he is the most scientific man in 
‘materia medica.’” 

Supper being over, the next we see of Major De- 
Kray, he is discoursing Mrs. Keele, who is vocifer¬ 
ous in praise of her husband and Virginia. 

“Comehere, daughter, and let me introduce you 
to Major DeKray, of the Confederate army.” 

Bowing low, Virginia took the seat tendered 
her by the Major, who was somewhat thrown off 
his balance by such a proceeding; observing this, 
she said: 

“Daughter, here is the best modernization of 
the war in timidity, and I wish you thrown among 
such gentlemen. He can entertain you better than 
any man in my knowledge.” 

“I confess, madam, you dome more honor than 
I deserve.” 

“No, sir; the Staffords, who are the aristo- 
racy of this country, ally your name with Vesta 
Howard, and I am quite sure tjiis is sufficient re¬ 
commendation to you.” 

“You certainly overwhelm me with flattery, but 
I do not think you do Miss Howard justice, who 
would blush to have her name thus handled. I 
consider myself fortunate in the friendship of such 
a grand, noble young girl.” 

Speaking in low tones to Major DeKray, she 
said, “This is confidential, but a lady told me that 
someone told her, that she had been truthfully in¬ 
formed, that Miss Vesta Howard was deeply in 


DR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


147 


love with Captain Lamar, of the Virginia army, 
and also how wretched it made Judge Howard to 
think of her marrying.” 

“Why, mama, you discourage Major DeKray; 
you should not talk this way.” 

“I grant many indulgences to ladies,” said the 
Major; “but, please excuse me, as I wish to speak 
to Miss Proctor.” 

“Advancing to the beautiful, blushing girl in 
the corner, he remarked, “Miss Proctor, I believe. 
I’ve had the honor of meeting you in Galveston.” 

“Yes, sir! I recognized you as soon as I entered 
the room.” 

“Pardon me, Miss Proctor, I should have seen 
you sooner, for your friend, Mr. Sedgwick, desired 
to be remembered tenderly to you and requested 
the pleasure of calling on you as he passes through 
this city.” 

“I will receive him with pleasure. I can never 
cease to regard him for his attention to my de¬ 
ceased brother.” 

“I remember the circumstances of your broth¬ 
er’s death and also of his discharging faithfully 
the duties of a brave and good soldier.” 

“A bereavement of this kind, I assure you, admits 
of no earthly cure.” 

“Such is the fate of the soldier,” said Major 
DeKray, doomed to die on the battle-field, pouring 
out his life-stream in pledge of love for his country, 
while around him the chivalry of noble, manly, 
natures are striving to avenge his death.” 


148 


VESTA ; 


“Why, Julia, you seem a captive here,” saida 
sweet voice over her shoulder. Looking up, she 
caught her aunt, Mrs. May, by the hand and intro¬ 
duced her to Major DeKray. 

“If I am not mistaken, Major, you are from 
New Orleans.” 

“It gives me pleasure, madam, to inform you 
that I am a native of that place.” Her languishing 
eyes resting upon him, he almost imagined their 
darts, sending new life into his soul, but in an¬ 
other moment, despair seemed gathering around her, 
and modesty comes to gather all the soul had 
reaped from those same eyes. Miss Proctor with¬ 
drew, leaving her aunt and Major DeKray alone. 

“This meeting with you, my dear madam is a 
very sudden inspiration, and why, I cannot tell.” 

“You may be assured, sir, it is mutual. I feel 
the same mysterious impulses.” 

“I would have you uncurtain your soul’s an¬ 
gelic hue to me before we part this evening.” 

He looked at Mrs. May, her countenance was 
agitated, and he felt that some strange emotion 
was passing within her. It was so strange she 
made no allusion to her husband, who was a col¬ 
onel of high standing in the war. 

“Your niece,” said DeKray, “has many of your 
attractions, Mrs. May.” 

“Oh !” said Mrs. May, “Julia is charming, and as 
pure as an angel; so you see there is a dissimilarity 
of taste between us. Listen to me, Major DeKray, 
in a few moments I am going home and I wish to 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


149 


make one request of you, and that is, that you call 
to see me to-morrow.” 

“I will do anything you desire of me, madam, 
if to lay my life at your feet.” 

“Say not this, Major; there are many affinities 
between persons, though they may be comparative 
strangers, and now, my good friend, I must bid 
you good night.” 

“To-morrow afternoon I’ll certainly be at your 
house.” 

“I shall await you.” So saying, Mrs. May and 
Miss Proctor left the room and were soon out and 
gone. 

At this juncture, the young ladies of Flora 
Crysta also left, bidding the host and hostess good¬ 
bye with all the assurances ofodelighted guests. 

After retiring to his room, in vain ctid Major De- 
Kray try to compose himself. He felt the magic of 
Mrs. May’s influence, but he would not wrong her, 
for he deemed her all strength and truth and pur¬ 
ity. Sad and subdued, he trembled when the hour 
came for him to fulfill his engagement. 

“And then her look! Oh! where’s the heart so wise, 

Could unbewildered, meet those matchless eyes?” 

“But in those eyes there are the flashes of a 
troubled soul and will she unfold them to me? I’ll go 
and see; and strange as it is, she is more to me than a 
stranger, but how, I cannot tell.” 

He found her all alone, and meeting him with a 
smile, she ushered him into a private parlor. In a few 


150 


YESTA; 


moments, three lovely children came into the house. 
She introduced them to the Major, and bade the 
nurse take them out walking. 

“I know,” said she, “that it puzzles your brain 
to read me aright, and when I assure you that I 
love you, you will be appalled.” 

“Why, my dear madame, how shall I construe 
such an interview?” 

“I love you, and I owe you an obligation I can 
never fully repay.” 

“Why, madame, you owe me nothing more than 
the same regard I bear for you.” 

“ I owe you more than you can ever owe me. 
You are no stranger, though we never met before 
last night.” 

“I now fancy I have seen you before, Mrs. 
May, and your face impresses me forcibly.” 

“Ah! you have never seen me before,” still giv¬ 
ing deeper vent to her emotions. Major DeKray 
felt an unaccountable awe and misgiving. 

“Oh! Major DeKray, think of the impersonation 
of everything beautiful and lovely, of the coal- 
black hair hanging in majestic braids, the large 
black, glittering eyes, no one knowing where she 
came from or who she was, decoyed from a 11 the sa¬ 
cred and endearing ties of husband and children, mur¬ 
dered at a masquerade ball, and her corpse rescued 
and returned to her husband by a friend, and 
you, Major, that friend,and she my poor, unfortu¬ 
nate sister.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


151 


“My dear Mrs. May,” said he, springing 
from his chair “and are you indeed the sister of my 
friend’s wife?” 

“I am, and how glad of the opportunity to as¬ 
sure you of my love and gratitude. Identifying you 
—I have a picture which you here behold—I was 
determined to meet you, and went to Mrs. Werner’s 
party for no other purpose.” 

“I am glad to know you, my dear friend, and 
you can ever rely on me in any contingency,” re¬ 
plied he. 

Major DeKray gazed at his picture and ex¬ 
plained the tragical event to Mrs. May, exhonerat¬ 
ing her sister from any impurity which had rested 
upon her. A scene of gloom presented itself: a 
ball-room into which maskers flowed from every 
part of the city of New Orleans—harlequins, domi¬ 
noes, marquises, knights, kings, queens and peasants 
—all mingling in the dance, fully under the influence 
of wine. Then it was that in a sudden altercation, 
a pistol fired and instead of striking the intended 
mark, pierced the bosom of the veiled image of a 
sultana in representation, who then fell dead amidst 
the gay and glittering crowd that thronged the ball¬ 
room. He then told of his getting a caleche and 
taking her home to a heartbroken husband, where 
he was forced to unfold to him the awful truth of 
her tragical end. Mrs. May wept bitter tears as 
the facts were related, but rejoiced when Major 
DeKray assured and reassured her of Lucile’s innor 
cengy, as regards her conduct, 


152 


VESTA; 


“Alas! poor Charlie! he loved Lucile as few 
women ever were loved, and he died of a broken 
heart. I knew him intimately, and when the mask 
was removed, it was heart-rending tome.” 

Seeingthat Mrs. May was so sad and dejected, 
he proposed to her to walkover to see her niece with 
him, assuring her that such charming society would 
brighten her spirits. 

As they approached the house where Miss Proc¬ 
tor was stopping, they were accosted by Mrs. Keele 
and her daughter, going to the same place. After 
spending a few minutes, Major DeKray, becoming 
more thoroughly disgusted than ever with Mrs. 
Keele, proposed to accompany Mrs. May home 
before meeting an engagement at four o’clock. 
Mrs. May started out and Mrs. Keele said: 

“Look here, why do you turn pale and red; cer¬ 
tainly Major DeKray has given you an electric 
shock. The first tiffing you know Colonel May will 
send a challenge to somebody.” 

They made no reply, but bowed) formally out 
of the room. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


153 


CHAPTER XXII. 

IN THE FIELD. 

In the fall of 1863, after the great battles of 
Chickamauga were fought, the Federal forces were 
broken and flew in disorder to Chattanooga. It re¬ 
sulted in movements which were a great victory to 
the Confederates, and for a while arrested the pro¬ 
posed advance of the national forces into Georgia. 
General Grant, however, was put into command 
and bringinglargereinforcements from the West to 
relieve Chattanooga. 

In the meantime, Bragg’s forces were greatly 
weakened by sending Longstreet on an expedition 
against Knoxville. 

On the twenty-fifth of November, the Federals 
commenced their attack on the Confederates under 
Bragg, which ended in the memorable battles of 
Missionary Ridge. These will ever stand among the 
most heroic and decisive of the war. Wilson, the 
historian (Federal), says: 

“Far almost as the eye can reach, the sun fell 
upon the compact lines of polished steel. In front, 
towering up the huge form of Missionary Ridge, its 
precipitous sides defying attack, its summit swarm¬ 
ing with armed men, and crowned with artillery; 
away to the right and standing out clear and well 
defined, the bold outline of Lookout Mountain. * * 


154 


ESTA ; 


* * The Federal generals are gathered together in 
close array around the headquarters of their chief. 
Such was the sight which met the eye of the behold¬ 
er, as he stood on Orchard Knob, on the morning of 
the day which was to witness the final struggle, 
and the crowning national victory at Chattanooga. 
It was a magnificent spectacle, and one which it 
rarely falls to the lot of mortals to witness. * * * 
The Federals marched on. The Confederates did 
not yield without stubborn resistance. It was 
found impossible, however, to withstand the ener¬ 
gy and dash of the national troops. * * * * 

The Federals dash forward. Missionary Ridge 
all at once seems ablaze. On all the forts and bat¬ 
teries the heavy guns open fire, and from their hol¬ 
low mouths they bellow harsh thunder and vomit 
forth their missiles of destruction. * * * * * 

The Federals push their way up the steep side of the 
mountain. They are exposed now to the terrific 
fire from enemies’ guns on the heights above them. 
Shell, canister, shrapnel, bullets are falling upon 
them with deadly effect. * * * To plant the 

first color on the summit appears to be the ambi¬ 
tion of every brigade, of every soldier. * * * * 

The first to reach the summit was a group of men 
from the First Ohio, and a few others, under Lieu¬ 
tenant-Colonel Langdon, who was shot down. 
These were followed by others. There were hand 
to hand struggles, but the shouting victors came 
pouring into the Confederate works bayoneting 
the cannoneers at their guns and the men gave way. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


155 


Missionary Ridge was now occupied by the 
national troops. * * * * The immediate result 

of the victory at Chattanooga was the relief of 
Knoxville. Bragg was soon, at his own request, 
relieved of his own command of his routed and dis¬ 
organized army. He was succeeded by Joseph E. 
Johnston.” 

The news of the fall of the Confederates at 
Missionary Ridge filled the South with consterna¬ 
tion. This, in a measure, decided the vital question, 
and Judge Howard felt it keenly. The news was 
received by the girls with tears and regrets. 
There was a general apprehension that the Yankees 
would reach as far south as Flora Crysta, and 
that its lovely scenes would not be regarded, and in 
these reflections, matterswereassuming quite a seri¬ 
ous aspect. The family assembled together to 
discuss the news. 

“Be hopeful,” said Grandma, “as Washington 
lost more battles than heevergained and his darkest 
time was just before day” 

“Yes, and you all know that the Romans in 
their greatest victories invariably began with de¬ 
feat,” rejoined Judge Howard. 

“Crosses,” says the old proverb, “are the lad¬ 
ders that lead to heaven, and it may be demonstrat¬ 
ed so in our case,” said the gentle and quiet Katrine. 

“The changes which have come over our land 
since our delightful tour to Lookout Mountain are 
too sad and remarkable not to let their warnings 
be laid to heart,” said Vesta to Happie. “Surely, if 


156 


VESTA; 


ever there was a time when we see destiny interven¬ 
ing in human affairs, it is at this crisis.” 

“Well, if they come upon us,” replied Happie, 
“we must do the best we can to save Flora Crysta, 
and see that it is not converted into a butcher’s 
pen. It is an irresistible bait to the Yankee boys, 
but I’ll tell you all, when they come, I’ll try the effect 
of old friendships upon them. I’ll remind them 
how I love the North and my old teacher, their dis¬ 
tinguished Mrs. Emma Willard, and I’ll venture 
they’ll pass us by.” 

“Mrs. Willard is your fulcrum then, Aunt Hap, 
in danger, is she?” 

“Yes! I want no better. There is more good¬ 
ness in some of these Yankees than your philosophy 
ever dreamed of, Claude. But here’s a note in the 
hand of a servant coming in—let’s see; it is to Mrs. 
Judge Howard. Read! It’s Major DeKray’s hand¬ 
writing.” 

“My Dear Mrs. Howard: 

“My friend, Col. W. T. Pargoud, of New Orleans, is in your 
city and is very desirous of visiting your noted garden. If 
agreeable, we will call this p. m., at four o’clock, and ask the 
favor of being conducted through your grounds, and the pleas¬ 
ure of meeting the young ladies a few moments. With esteem. 

“Very truly yours, 

“City, October 1st, 18C3.” “Warren DeKray. 

Mrs. Howard wrote in answer thus: 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS, 


157 


“Maj. Warren DeKray: 

“It -will afford the young ladies and myself pleasure to re¬ 
ceive you and your friend at the time specified. 

‘ ‘Very sincerely yours, 

“Oct. 1863.” “Marie Howard. 

At the appointed hour, the two young gentle¬ 
men appeared. They were presented to Grandma 
and the young ladies, and all were soon walking 
through the intricate mazes of Flora Crysta. 
Hanging on the front piazza was a large cage 
from which two parrots greeted the young people 
as they passed through the upper terrace. Polly 
was delighted with the new-comers, and displayed 
her form in its plumage of rich scarlet to wonder¬ 
ful advantage. 

She was a real beauty; the top of her head was 
of deep purple, black on the forehead; the breast 
bearing a collar of bright yellow; the wings green 
above and changing to violet on the edges; the tail 
feathers of scarlet, banded with black and tipped 
with yellow. It talked much to the amusement of 
all, caressing its mate in a way that looked much 
like kissing. 

“Your garden, madam,” remarked Colonel 
Pargoud, “is certainly the most beautiful 
of the South. 

“It is of incalculable pleasure to me, I do assure 
you” replied Mrs. Howard. 

“Your annuals are certainly rare. I see too, 
you have biennials, which grow without flowering 
the first year; and flower, bear fruit and die the 
second year.” 


158 


VESTA ' 


“Yes! you are correct, sir; then too, I have the' 
perennials, which blossom annually and live on and 
die from age.” 

Mrs. Howard then called Colonel Pargoud’s 
attention to her flowerless plants, the 
highest in the scale of which were her ferns and 
mosses, then to her conifers or those trees belong¬ 
ing to the pine family, such as firs, spruces and 
yews. 

“I must tell you, Mrs. Howard, of a specimen 
of spruce. It was cut from a tree three hundred 
and eighteen feet high with a diameter of sixteen 
feet at the base.” 

The young people amused themselves over the 
sleeping plants, and also over the sunflower, which 
was more personal than any other. 

“This flower, you know, was dedicated to kings 
and princes. It was a sacred flower among the Per¬ 
sians who worshipped the sun; and in their temples, 
their virgins were crowned with it.” 

“The Indian superstition is, that pull a sun¬ 
flower at sundown, with a wish and it will be real¬ 
ized before the next sundown” laughed Happie; “so 
I believe I’ll try^my luck and imitate Oscar Wilde in 
my looks, wearing it as esthetically—ah! dear!” 

The time passed delightfully to all, and when 
the hour arrived for the gentlemen to leave, there 
was the happiest interchange of sentiment and cor¬ 
diality. 

“I have quite forgotten the lateness of the 
hour,” remarked Colonel Pargoud, “I am so per- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


159 


fectly charmed with the garden and its fair occu¬ 
pants. ” 

They had been just discussing submarine vegeta¬ 
tion, and Happie remarked that her sister, Mrs. 
Howard, would like to take up her abode in the 
bottom of the sea, after hearing so much of the 
fauna and flora of it. 

“Don’t you think so, Major?” 

“That would be determined by its current,” 
said the Major. 

“And by the temperature of the water,” 
replied Happie, “for Marie is awfully afraid of 
extremes; she’d have to take along Claude, 
our animated barometer, who always tells the 
weather by his twitches and aches.” 

The Major laughed outright, but said she was 
taking advantage of Claude, as he was not there to 
defend himself. 

At this moment, Claude, who had been peeping 
at the crowd, walked up and conducted the gentle¬ 
men to the gate, and all delighted with their new 
guests returned to the house. 


160 


VESTA ; 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

NEWS OF DEATH. 

“In 1864, the fourth year of the war, active 
military operations began in February. * * The 
object was to enter Richmond, release the Federal 
prisoners, burn the city and, as the papers stated, 
kill the Confederate president and the cabinet.” 
The latter aim, however,-was hard to believe, as 
the great commander was, we believe, incapable of 
such intentions. In the meantime, large reinforce¬ 
ments were concentrated at Petersburg by Beaure¬ 
gard to repel the attacks and thus, for a while, save 
Petersburg and Richmond. In this state of things, 
Lee sent General Early on an expedition into Mary¬ 
land, northward of Washington. This was to 
threaten, and, if possible, seize the Federal capital 
or, at least, to draw Grant from Petersburg, and 
around Richmond. Early was met atMonocacy by 
a Federal force, which he routed. He returned af¬ 
ter securing a large supply of provisions. Grant 
sent Sherman after Early. Two battles ensued be¬ 
tween the f orces: one at Winchester on the nineteenth 
of September, in which Early was defeated; the 
other, at Cedar Creek, on the nineteenth of October. 
Here Early attacked Sheridan’s forces, he being ab¬ 
sent at the time, and completely routed them. 
Sheridan arrived in the day, rallied his men and 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


161 


routed the Confederates in turn. He then pro¬ 
ceeded to lay waste and devastate the rich and fer¬ 
tile valley of the Shenandoah, destroying every¬ 
thing within reach upon which man and. beast 
could subsist. Some of the most daring and roman¬ 
tic acts of the war were performed by the cavalry 
on both sides. 

It was at this time that Frederick Lamar 
immortalized himself. Just as he was in the 
successful accomplishment of high promotion, he 
received a severe wound, falling into the hands of 
the enemy and was pronounced fatally injured. Two 
of hi$ men were also badly wounded and were cap¬ 
tured with him'. His loss caused grief and mourn¬ 
ing among his men, but the forces were so demoral¬ 
ized that no further attempts were then made to 
advance upon the enemy to avenge their loss. The 
Federals, under Grant, were now directing their en¬ 
tire attention to the occupation Of Petersburg. The 
battles around this memorable place were frightful. 
They were not a valley of the shadow of death 
—they were a valley of death itself. After 
hearing the report of the capture of Captain 
Lamar, a great change came over the spirit of Ves¬ 
ta. To her, all nature wore a funereal appearance. 
There were murmurs of omens in every breeze, and 
a sad melancholy in the songs of birds and in the 
rippling streams around her once melodious home. 
Still her heart was upborne by the love that she 
had so long and faithfully cherished. She took in 
the scenes where she imagined Frederick mantled in 


162 


VESTA; 


death, with his lips compressed and his pale hands 
clasped across his noble and manly bosom, but his 
eyes—oh! speak not of those as they seemed for¬ 
ever closed to love’s fondest expression. 

“Oh!” she articulated to herself, “everything 
woos me to my dear one, forever barred from my 
sight. I too, must be borne with him beyond those 
stars, that gleam but to reveal the resplendent 
light and glory of his soul reunited to God. Alas ! 
the syren voice of hope, that led me to believe I 
should once more revel in his smiles.” 

Overcome by these emotions, Vesta sank ex¬ 
hausted to the very dust, and there offered a prayer 
that God would dissipate the mists of uncertainty, 
and give her fortitude in her trials. Her’s was a 
love that entered into a perfect union with its coun¬ 
terpart. Her future was to be a new world into 
which she cared not to enter. How she longed to 
pout out the overflowings of her heart to some 
congenial friend. She had not the courage to brave 
the dark vistas open to her. Up to this period she 
had never served an apprenticeship of difficulties 
or sorrows, but she needed experience to develop 
the divine spark of heroism in her character. Trials 
often develop strength and great purpose. As “some 
flowers need to be crushed to emit their sweetest 
fragrance,” so some natures must be tried to 
evoke the excellence that is within them. In 
life, nothing is more beautiful than to see a young 
girl combating disappointment by courage and 
self-sacrifice. She arose from her sad reveries. The 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


163 


first to greet her was Claude, who was standing 
on the back verandah. 

“Come, cousin,” said he, “I have been wonder¬ 
ing where you had strolled to. The news from 
the seat of war has overpowered me, but I do hope 
the reports are not true, especially as regards Fred.” 

“I certainly hope so,” replied Vesta, despond¬ 
ently. 

“Fred dared endure all for his country, but 
will be rewarded by the laurels steeped in his gal¬ 
lant blood,” continued Claude. 

“Speak not, Claude, of blood; my heart wan¬ 
ders to a Golgotha, and his destiny unknown to 
all except God himself.” 

“Cousin Vesta, I am in the deepest sympathy 
with you; but you must pluck up courage, for if 
the die be cast, remember the sublime example left 
us all by Frederick, who went, no doubt, as cheer¬ 
fully to death on the battlefield as the bride¬ 
groom to the marital altar. His services are well- 
recorded and will fill one of the most glorious 
pages of history.” 

Vesta made no reply, but passed on and sought 
the solitude of her own room. As she stood there she 
was accosted by Aunt Tony, who had just entered 
bearing a waiter of fresh flowers. The old servant 
seemed paralyzed when seeing Vesta so pale, and 
exclaimed: 

‘ ‘ Miss Vesty, what in de name of God is dat sting¬ 
ing your heart so,chile; you look so white dis eben- 


164 


VESTA ; 


in’. Lize Jane says your sweetheart’s dead in the 
war. Is dat what’s de matter wid you?” 

“Be silent, good mamtny; it is better to keep 
silent than talk about sweethearts.” 

“Well, I ’low’d you had hearnsoment, and Mr. 
Keeley said if dat was a fact about Captain La- 
mardy bein’ dead, he meant to put in hisself, an’try 
to get you stuck on him. He’s got lots of money 
and lots of fine clo’es, an’ one thing to be shure, 
he’ll never be killed by them cussed Yankees, kase 
he’s afraid of ’em, and sence I hearn of so much 
killin’, I don’t blame de man.” 

“Mammy, I think we had better talk over these 
lovely flowers. Who sent them?” 

“Bless your soul, honey ; I got ’em for you, kase 
I thought you was a pinin,’ and I heard Miss 
Marie say flowers was a sorter stimulatin’ thing 
and doz folks lots of good when dey is troubled. 
You know dey always puts ’em on dead folks to 
make em look gay and libely. I likes to see ’em.” 

“Really, mammy, I am truly grateful to you, but 
you must not think I am grieving as you suppose.” 

“Axions speak louder dan words, Miss Vesta; 
but you mind, you’ll always find old Tony a stick 
to lean on when you’s in trouble, kase I nursed 
you, chile, when you was a gal baby and I lows to 
consolate you long as you lib.” 

At this moment Claude tapped at the door 
and handed Vesta ,a dispatch from Paris. 
Vesta’s instinct perceived at once the char¬ 
acter of its contents. She shed bitter tears 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


165 


as her eyes fell upon the news that the fight 
was lost and that Captain Lamar and Lieutenant 
Camp had been wounded, and had fallen into the 
hands of the enemy—the former thought to be 
mortally injured. 

All the inmates of Flora Crysta were deeply 
moved over the intelligence, and though no words 
passed, they realized the effect upon Vesta’s rnind. 
Aunt Tony turned to Claude and said : 

“Here, Mars Claude, stay here and chat wid dis 
chile; I don’t know ’xactly what to say to folks in 
trouble, but I low’d ’twas a cornin’ when dat old 
yaller hen kept a crowin’ and crowin’ yisterday ail 
I herd sornent say in de wind dat trouble was a 
comin.” With this she withdrew, saying as she 
did so, “God bless dat poor man and keep him 
from de eberlastin’ fire. Miss Vesta will neber see 
dat man any more, and poor me, he’ll neber slip 
anoder half a dollar in dis old nigger’s paws.” 

Relieved from Aunt Tony’s agitation, Claude 
arose and taking Vesta’s hand in his, said : 

“I know, cousin, the truth of your devotion to 
Fred Lamar—now entrust your emotions to me.” 

“You are already aware of them, Claude. 
This is the saddest moment of my life, for I 
feel that it terminates all hope for the future.” 

She arose and walked the room, glancing at 
Claude as- he remarked : 

' “Your father and mother are unco nscious of your 
feelings, and their depth in this matter—besides, 
they are planning a grand match for you with De- 


166 


VESTA; 


Kray, little dreaming of what I know to be your 
utter horror of this idea.” 

“I loved Frederick Lamar, and I’ll never unite 
myself to any other man living. It is simply ab¬ 
surd to talk of such an idea. In this determination, 
which is made in the presence of high heaven, there 
is no compromise of conscience, or duty to parents; 
lam animated only by a spirit of justice to myself as 
well as to any man aspiring to my hand and heart.” 

“Cousin,” said Claude, “you are right, nor do I 
blame you. In the person of Major DeKray 
there is to me an attraction which tends to 
assimilate us, but candor compels me to say he is 
not my ideal of a husband, for the worth of a 
man in matrimonial relation, should ever be deter¬ 
mined by his morals, and in this, he is deficient. In 
his deportment with Louise Angelo, he was a de¬ 
based specimen of humanity, as well as myself—so 
different from Fred, whose nature ennobled and 
lifted him above such characters.” 

“Oh! Claude, how glad I am that you so re¬ 
gard Frederick, and oh ! the pure, precious life that 
is forever embalmed in my heart. I shall carry 
the memory of him to my grave, as I bear this 
pledge on my heart.” 

Drawing from her bosom the tokened ring, 
Vesta showed and explained it to Claude, also con¬ 
fiding to him her surprise on the mountain. For 
hours they conversed freely, Vesta unfolding her 
plans to Claude, and receiving in return words of 
sympathy and comfort. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


167 


“You know, cousin, that DeKray has been fash¬ 
ioned after the highest models of society, and is rec¬ 
ognized as a man of rank, of great fortune, and, 
for this reason, your father will yet insist upon 
your marrying him,” said Claude. 

“Riches and rank have no necessary connection 
with, my ideal of true manly qualities and those 
which gain power with me. The best test of man 
is his gentleness, a life that rejoices in making 
others happy and in that warm heart which sways 
the very existence of the one loved.” 

“Cousin, you are young, and as comets, you 
know, are sometimes revealed by eclipses, so a 
young life may be developed by adversity, and in 
your love you may—” 

At this moment there was a call at the front 
door and Katrine and Happie appeared at Vesta’s 
room. 

“Good evening, Vesta; you and Claude seem 
to be having a tete-a-tete , hope there’s no intrusion.” 

“None at all,” said Vesta; “comein and brighten 
us with your sweet, cheerful faces.” 

The girls chatted away with no allusion to the 
dispatch. 

“This is an important time with us all,” said 
Happie. ' • 

“And a sad one too,” remarked Katrine. 

“There is one consolation, however,” rejoined 
Happie, “when we remember that our friends lost 
to us by this cruel war will be cherished in blood 
and lineage and will still speak from another world, 


168 


vest a; 


and beckon us on in the noble paths they have 
trod, for Southern gallantry is a perpetual bequest, 
which will live from age to age and pass into the 
hearts of all succeeding generations.” 

“Yes,” said Katrine, “how great in radiating 
force are the examples of Lee, Jackson and John- 
< ston, who attuned their harps to Southern glory.” 

“And too, our gallant Fred,” said Claude “who 
in the last engagement fulfilled the highest mission 
to his country.” 

“The forbidden,” said Happie, in soft words; 
“you know this touches Vesta, Claude, and why al¬ 
lude to it.” With these words, she passed a stolen 
glance at Vesta, who was controlling her emotions 
by some reserve force apparently independent of 
all surroundings. 

“It is a duty we owe to our dear friend to 
speak of him, and to accord to him a glory 
which it will be Cousin Vesta’s pride as well as yours 
and mine to transmit to others,” replied Claude. 

During this interview, as well as all subsequent 
ones, Vesta remained calm and serene. They all 
repaired to the supper table, where Vesta partook 
of a cup of tea and some bread, with an apparently 
resigned mind, while Claude alone knew the grief 
oppressing her young heart. 

From this time forward, reading absorbed all 
her energies, filling up spare moments in visiting the 
sick around her home. “How long is this cruel war 
to last?” she often said to herself as she lay tossing 
on an uneasy bed, and tortured by dreams of her 


Oil, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


169 


dear Frederick, and felt as if to die was all she 
cared for. Then followed sleepless nights and days 
of hopeless anxiety. Her friends began to ob¬ 
serve her failing health, and to her doting mother, 
it became inexpressibly distressing . Frederick, the 
spell-word, was spoken in more mournful accents 
than ever, and the star that had illumined her 
brightest hopes, had departed forever. Claude’s 
society alone bore any charm for her. He alone 
shed the beam of consolation to her drooping 
spirits, and pictured to her the beautiftil beyond 
the clouds that hung so menacingly over her. We 
find them walking alone over the fields, and amid 
the flowers, admitted to an intimacy that no one 
else was allowed to enjoy. 

“As the glorious sun comes flashing over*these 
lovefy scenes,” remarked Vesta, “the flowers and 
grass seem unconscious of what may be their 
doom, should the army invade us. Already, I 
imagine I hear the roll of drums and the wild shouts 
of the victors.” 

“There can be no greater contrast than would 
take place should they reach us,” returned Claude; 
“it would be revolution, indeed; for, when they 
do enter this country, the men will fight like mad¬ 
men to save their homes. The campaigns of Rich¬ 
mond, of Tennessee, with their deeds of glory, will 
only be parallels to scenes in Georgia when they 
reach here.” 


170 


VESTA ; 


“It could hardly be worse for us than it is 
already; everything is mystery and darkness, gloom 
and affright to us all,” said Vesta. 

“Yes, cousin, it can be a great deal worse; for, 
when you behold an army winding itself like a 
huge anaconda over these hills, then only will 
you know what it is in reality.” 

In a moment, while Claude and Vesta were talk¬ 
ing, the sun disappeared and a terrific thunder¬ 
cloud arose; the clouds in masses swept over them, 
and the wind in the east commenced blowing with 
considerable fury. 

“Let’s hasten home, Claude; really, this rising 
storm is an evil omen, and may presage the advent 
of the enemy among us.” . 

“You mean the thunders of heaven foretelling 
the thunders of cannon, and the lightning preceding 
the flashing of bayonets—maybe; let us hurry up 
and be ready for the fray.” 

With these words, the two hastened homeward, 
where news awaited them from the seat of war. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


171 


« 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

NEWS FROM THE SEAT OF WAR. 

About this time General Lee had been compelled 
to evacuate Petersburg, uniting his forces with the 
troops in North Carolina in order to make a com¬ 
bined attack with Johnson upon Sherman. At this 
time he had never contemplated surrender, believ¬ 
ing that in the mountains of Virginia, h<?could carry 
on the war for twenty years and yet baffle the 
hosts of the Union army. 

Gordon, whose corps formed the rear guard 
from Petersburg, and who had fought daily for the 
protection of the trains, had now been transferred 
to the front. 

On the next morning, before daylight, Lee sent 
Colonel Venable, one of his staff, to Gordon, com¬ 
manding the advance, to learn his opinion as to 
the chances of a successful attack, to whom the 
brave Gordon replied: 

“My old corps is reduced to a frazzle, and un¬ 
less I am supported by Longstreet heavily, I do 
not think we can do anything more. ,, 

When Colonel Venable returned with this 
answer to General Lee, he said: 

“Then there is nothing left me but to go and 
see General Grant.” 


VESTA ; 


172 


The noble spirit of the Confederates had resist¬ 
ed the extremes of privation and danger and never 
surrendered until confronted by overwhelming num¬ 
bers, disputing every inch of soil with a heroism and 
patriotism that will render them immortal. 

General Grant, in response to a communication 
under a white flag, made by General Lee, came to 
Appomattox, where a room was procured for their 
conference and the two generals discussed the 
terms of surrender. Grant expressed himself as 
satisfied and terms were amicably arranged April, 
1865 . 

Then followed a universal surrender embracing 
Johnston’s army, that of Dick Taylor in Louisiana 
and Texas, and of Maury, Forest, and others in 
Alabama and Georgia. 

The Confederates laid down their arms. The 
constitution was aga^in the law of the land, with 
the addition of the thirteenth, fourteenth and fif¬ 
teenth amendments.. The great champions of 
liberty were now the subjects of Andrew Johnson, 
the lamented Lincoln having been vilely assassin¬ 
ated. When the cause was lost, “What cause was 
it?” said one of the grandest men of the American 
continent. “Not that of the South only, but the 
cause of constitutional government, of the su¬ 
premacy of the law, of the natural rights of 
man.” 

The Southern people then proved themselves 
worthy of their noble ancestry. The great deeds 
their soldiers did, the examples they set for gal- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


173 


lantry and endurance, won the laurels of the South¬ 
ern Confederacy. 

***** -X- * * 

The rumor of Lee’s surrender reached Flora 
Crysta. The news struck terror into the hearts of 
everyone, especially when hearing of the reward 
offered by President Johnson for the capture of the 
Hon. Jefferson Davis, who was then implicated in 
the assassination of Lincoln, and who was after¬ 
wards arrested and incarcerated in Fortress Mon¬ 
roe and surrounded by a strong guard. 

* * * * * * * * 

The war showed the right of secession to be im¬ 
practicable. A union was restored, and, as it hap¬ 
pened, crimination and recrimination should for¬ 
ever cease and on the basis of fraternity and faith¬ 
ful regard for the rights of the States, there should 
be written on the arch of the Union “Esto perpetua,” 
These were the sentiments of Judge Howard. 

Grandma, with a confident, solemn air, and 
with great earnestness and conviction, remarked: 

“Well, children, we are overpowered; we have 
carried death through the ranks of the enemy, 
they have done the same to us, but we have pre¬ 
served through all the respect of mankind, and all 
we can now do is to set about fulfilling the destiny 
that God intended for us.” 

“This war,” said Claude, “is indeed a tragic mys¬ 
tery, there is nothing to equal it in history; but, 


174 


VESTA ; 


in the last struggle, our men proved themselves 
worthy the laurels won, even in defeat. ,, 

Very gloomy indeed, sat the Judge,.with news¬ 
paper in hand, while every head bent low to catch 
the news he was reading. Happie looked as solemn 
as Minerva’s bird, but evaded all remarks. The 
other members of the family remained silent and 
sat about in groups on divans forgetting their em¬ 
broideries, which had fallen at their feet. 

Miss May, the sanguine housekeeper and 
good Christian woman, said : 

“I would have given my life for Southern inde¬ 
pendence, which now is but a dream. Hope has led 
me on and I have prayed that I might not taste of 
death till this was accomplished.” 

“Dear Miss May,” replied Mrs. Howard, “I have 
never hoped, but despaired from the first firing of 
Fort Sumter, and though I knew the chivalry of 
the South, I fully realized the great disparity in 
numbers.” 

The sound of the dinner-bell brought Aunt Tony 
to the sitting room. 

“Come along to dinner; what’s de matter wid 
de folks? Even to Miss Maggie done forgot to 
eat.” 

Well, Aunt Tony, ’ said Claude as he arose 
to lead the way, “you are a free nigger now, for 
the Yankees have flogged us right out.” 

“Do hush your foolishness, boy. I’se been 
noth’n but a free nigger all de days of my life, and 
specs to be till I die.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


175 


“Yes, but you can now set up for yourself and 
have all the money you earn, and stuff it right 
down in your own pocket.” 

“Iham’t study in’ you boy; dinner’s gittin’ cold. 
I don’t want money. I wants to get my cup of 
coffee’fore it gits too cold.” 

“But, sure enough, mammy, you are free,” said 
Happie; “the war is closed, the Confederacy is 
dead and the colored people can make their own 
homes, as they choose.” 

“Who’s dead? I don’t wonder you all looking 
so shy. I hadn’t herd nothin’ ’bout dat.” 

“I mean, mammy, our country’s hope is dead.” 

“Oh! I don’t care nothin’ ’bout dat, kase I 
specks to stay wid Miss Marie till she dies, and 
den wid Miss Vesty till she dies, and den wid 
dis here very chile, Ollie, long as he libs; 
and den, if he dies, I specks to stay and take care of 
dis very place, Flory Crysty.” 

They all dispersed, when dinner was served, in a 
quiet fashion. It was a freezing scene, specially to 
Claude and Happie. The Judge seemed petrified, 
or touched by the spell of some terrible demon. 

The door-bell rang at this moment and Major 
DeKray was announced. He had called to give 
Judge Howard the |details of the surrender, etc., 
but appeared calm and self-sustained amid the 
tumultuous events in which his life was passing. 
The afternoon was spent in discussion and com¬ 
ment. Major DeKray devoted a portion of the time 
to the young ladies. Vesta, in the meantime, sat 


176 


VESTA; 


still and appeared as white as a marble statue; her 
heart was far away, she knew not where. 

Finally, the bright moon arose over the beauti¬ 
ful Flora Crysta, tipping with silver the lovely 
flowers and pouring a flood of light over the dis¬ 
tant hills. The weary and gloomy members of the 
family retired to rest, but there was but little sleep 
for their eyes. 

Mrs. Floward had ominous forebodings that 
her home would be entered, and her labor of years 
lost. Strange to say, the army did pass through 
the city, and her grounds were visited by the invad¬ 
ers, but the gallant Colonel L- remarked to 

her: “Miscreants that we are, madam, your beauti¬ 
ful garden shall not be piolested, but shall be 
guarded and preserved as a monument to your 
wonderful genius.” 

In this he displayed a magnanimity which en¬ 
deared him to every heart, and to-day his name is 
cherished in feelings that can not be mistaken, 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


177 


CHAPTER XXV. 

AFTER THE WAR. 

In November of 1865, Mr. Seward, Secretary of 
State, sent a telegram to the effect that abolition 
of slavery and the ratification of the thirteenth 
amendment would be enforced. The people com¬ 
plied with the terms. They annulled the ordi¬ 
nance of secession and renewed their obligations to 
the Federal Union. 

Peace, quiet, law and order, with the protection 
of life and liberty, prevailed throughout the South. 
Everything went on smoothly for awhile, but many 
questions still arose that threatened the ties ce¬ 
menting a reunion. The conciliatory administration 
of General Grant, however, prevailed and will ever 
receive the highest credentials from an impartial 
historian. There were many horrors after the war 
which we do not produce, but be it said to their 
great credit, the freed negroes conducted them¬ 
selves well. Many faithful slaves preferred re¬ 
maining at their homes and loved cabins on the 
old plantation, and notwithstanding all that has 
been written and said on the subject of slavery, 
the matter will be left to the arbitrament of the 
intelligent and unprejudiced of the South, as to the 
treatment of the generality of slaves, who were 
said by the North, to toil under the lash and 


178 


vesI'a ; 


lords of tyranny and oppression, and those who 
were branded as “rebels” will in future ages bear 
the epithets of self-sacrificing patriots fighting 
for their legitimate inheritance. The South stands 
to-day unsullied, and w T ith an inspired courage, 
moulding and wielding her elements of strength, 
which no vicissitude can reach or change. The evo¬ 
lution of her great struggle awakened a sublime 
fixedness of purpose, with hearts throbbing only 
with pulsations of buried sorrow and martyred af- 
iections, in which are enshrined burning thoughts of 
a gilded past. The widow and the orphan are im¬ 
aged forth in all this, but still looking forward, 
“rich in 'faith and full of boundless aims.” When 
recalling the past, it is well to be reminded of the 
touching lines of Father Ryan, one of America’s 
best poets. 

“A land without ruins, is a land without mem¬ 
ories—a land without memories, is a land without 
liberty! A land that wears a laurel crown may be 
fair to see; but twine a few cypress leaves around 
the brow of any land, be that land beautiless and 
bleak, it becomes lovely in its consecrated coronet of 
sorrow, and it wins the sympathy of the heart and 
history ! Calvaries and crucifixes take deepest hold 
of humanity—the triumphs of might are transient, 
they pass away and are forgotten—the sufferings 
of right are graven deepest on the chronicles of 
nations.” , 


Oil, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


179 


“Yes, give me a land where the ruins are spread, 

And the living tread light on the hearts of the dead. 
Yes! give me a land that is blest by the dust 
And bright with the deeds of the down-trodden just. 
Yes! give me a land that hath legends and lays, 
Enshrining the memories of long-vanished days; 

Yes! give me a land that hath story and song, 

To tell of the strife of the right and the wrong; 

Yes! give me the land with a grave in each spot, 

And names in the graves that shall not be forgot; 

Yes! give me the land of the wreck and the tomb— 
There’s a grandeur in graves, there’s a glory in gloom; 
For out of the gloom, future brightness is born, 

As after the night looms the sunrise of morn; 

And the graves of the dead, with the grass overgrown, 
May yet form the footstool of liberty’s throne, 

And each single wreck in the warpath of might 
Shall yet be a rock in the Temple of Right.” 


180 


VESTA; 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

BOUND FOR EUROPE. 

Paris returned from the war, and oh! how glad 
to enjoy once more the lovely paradise, where the 
sun rose calm and majestic over the yet troubled 
waters of his soul, from witnessing the havoc and 
desolation of war. How different from where he 
had been, where the work of destruction went vigor¬ 
ously onward, unimpeded ; “falling towns, and tot¬ 
tering walls, avalanche-like, went down with thun¬ 
dering sounds, sending up at every crash, great 
billowy showers of glowing fiery embers.” 

He could now be left to his own reflections, and 
look back with pride upon his conduct in war as an 
humble private. His great soul was a labyrinth, 
interlaced with many contending emotions and he 
began to form plans for the future. Having man¬ 
fully faced death in the brunt of battle, he was 
now ready to stand manfully by his duty in all 
civil and home affairs—devoting himself assidu¬ 
ously to his sister who was paramount to every other 
consideration. During the next year the South 
took rapid strides towards the greatness which 
was to be her good fortune. Roused from all apa¬ 
thy of conscious ability by the war, she seemed 
“like a rock torn from her standing by a mountain 
torrent, receiving however, new impetus from 
every descent,”until some peaceful vale admits her 
into its bosom. A propitious wind arose over her, 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


181 


and she sailed fearlessly onward. It is impossible 
to crush a land so full of resources. The richness 
of her soil, the variety of her productions, the salu¬ 
brity of her climate and beauty of her landscapes 
and mountains, all conspire to to keep her as she 
is, the glory of her people, and of the world. She 
enjoys too, liberty in its true sense—the right to 
know, to argue and to utter freely according to 
consciencej and to be secure in the fruits of her 
toil. 

******** 

Judge Howard was one of the fortunate ones 
who sustained no loss whatever from the war in a 
pecuniary light; on the contrary, he accumu¬ 
lated thousands, but in an honorable and just man¬ 
ner. The sun that arose fresh from the hills around 
his elegant home bade him hope for the future, 
hence, theyoung ladies at Flora Crysta were differ¬ 
ently circumstanced as to advantages and privileges 
from any others in that section of country. 

* * * * * * * * 

Vesta went into the study and, as usual, in¬ 
dulged in her pensive meditations. She was heart¬ 
sick and weary in spirit. Claude followed her. She 
had never made any effort to conquer her devotion 
to the memory of Frederick, which lived on with a 
strength and passion that time had no power to les¬ 
sen. 

“‘Anything but this terrible suspense; a few more 
years such as I have suffered, and this tortuie must 
end.” As she repeated these words, Claude said; 


182 


vesta; . 


“Cousin, I thought you would learn to school 
yourself, and by this time, become reconciled to the 
inevitable. You ‘love well, but not wisely.’ ” 

“Say not so,” she replied, “even the burden of 
my sorrow is sweet, where it is all for one to whom 
I was plighted by a faith that will endure as long 
as my life lasts.” 

“No,cousin, brighten up; what I came to say is 
this: there is need of new scenes for you, that we 
may free you from your sad associations. You 
have long expressed a desire to visit Europe; the 
family have discussed this matter and have agreed 
to let me take you and the girls, to join a company 
of tourists, who will embark for Liverpool early in 
May. What say you to this?” 

“Oh ! Claude, that is just what I desire and, if 
possible, we’ll go to the north pole—just as far as 
possible—where I may bury the mystic past and 
have my heart frozen into an iceberg.” 

This fired Vesta’s imagination, for she, indeed, 
felt a longing for a change. 

“Well,” said Claude,“let’sgo at once, and defer 
the matter to Aunt Happie and Katrine, who. are 
eager to go into something to divert your mind 
and restore your wonted cheerfulness.” 

“A tour to Europe—” L said Happie, “tis of all 
my hobbies the supreme; its gusto is that of Shake¬ 
speare’s imagination—wish we could start to-day.” 

“I too,” remarked Katrine, “but you know 
there is much to do before we embark.” 

Grandma was consulted and agreed that it was 
“the very thing.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


183 


“Miss May roust suggest for you all,” replied 
Claude; “do not oppose her plans, or she’ll blaze up 
and be off like a sky rocket.” 

Sun, moon, and stars shone brighter than ever 
to Happie, as she commenced her preparations 
for the anticipated tour. Claude also, was as 
active as Happie, and matters went merrily on. 
******** 

After some digression, we return to Judge How¬ 
ard, who sat in the front verandah with his mind 
puzzled by greater questions than agitated the bos¬ 
oms of the others. He had been receiving letters 
which would have surprised the family, but which 
he withheld from all except Vesta. He determined 
upon giving her a talk. He kn.ew that her mind 
revolted at a union with Warren DeKray. Calling 
her, he urged in secret the acceptance of DeKray’s 
proffered offer of marriage. 

“I have,” said he, “consented to a tour to Eu¬ 
rope, hoping it will be for your pleasure and im¬ 
provement; and, while absent, I desire you to ban¬ 
ish all thoughts of Lamar, and bring your mind 
where you can return and acquiesce with my views 
for your future.” 

“Icannot,mydearfather, makesorash a prom¬ 
ise, for, as I now feel, I had rather die than marry 
a man with whom I have no sympathy. I 
could not renounce the last chance of human hap¬ 
piness left me. I loved Frederick Lamar. I love his 
memorv. He is the only man for whom I ever felt 


184 


VESTA; 


anything akin to love. I cannot banish him— 
no, never; never!” 

“Vesta, you are certainly a demented girl.” 

“No, father, I am not mad. I love you, I 
adore you—but, my heart is not bound by the wealth 
that allures you; it is buried with Frederick La- 
mar—and I have longed to reveal to you my secret, 
but I dreaded your eyes, that even now flash upon 
my very soul.” 

Judge Howard arose in anger, and harshly left 
her presence, but inwardly determined to carry his 
point. She was anxiously awaiting the day when 
she could leave home and escape any further impor¬ 
tunities on a subject so detestable to her. Judge 
Howard returned to where she was standing and 
handed her a letter, with the injunction that she 
retire to her room and ponder over its contents. 
This she agreed to do, glad of an opportunity to be 
once more alone. 

She opened the letter and discovered the writer, 
then read: 

“Mexico City. 

“Miss Vesta Howard, 

“Most Estimable One: 

“I am here in this wild, but to me, very interesting country, 
looking after my interests, but my mind wanders back to tlie 
beautiful scenes around Flora Crysta. Many of the days spent 
there have more loveliness than a century could afford else¬ 
where. This is a beautiful land; its monumental dreams min¬ 
gle spuriously, however, with one’s feelings. Its landscapes 
and sunny skies, and snow-piled mountain crags seem like a 
‘disbanded rainbow’ in such varied hues, but one might as 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


185 


well never see bcciuty as behold it with an empty eye, for 
where the heart is, there the eye must follow. 

‘It is fine 

To stand upon some lofty mountain thought, 

And feel the spirit stretch into a view— 

To joy in what might be, if will and power 
For good would work together but for one hour.’ 

“I again, Miss Yesta, declare my love for you. It is impossi¬ 
ble to desist. I again offer my heart at your feet, and all that 
I am is yours; all I desire is some peaceful spot where I might 
dwell with you. I cannot understand this love, and yet I feel 
its idolatry. 

“Will you be mine? Say but yes and I am at your service. 

“Yours, 

“Warren DeKray.” 

Upon reading this, Vesta, unlike most young 
girls, felt sadly over it, and cared not to wound a 
young man who had paid her the highest compli¬ 
ment he could convey. In reply she secretly ad¬ 
dressed him a most tender letter, expressing her 
friendship in the most exalted terms, but assuring 
him of an unalterable determination not to en¬ 
gage herself to any young man, and informing 
him of her contemplated tour to Europe. She re¬ 
peated to herself the following verses, as she laid 
the letter on her mantelpiece: 

“I cannot love as I have loved, 

And yet I know not why. 

It is the one great woe of life, 

To feel all feeling die, 

And one by one the heart-strings snap 
As days come on so chill, 

And hope, seemed left, that hope may cease 
And all will soon be still.” 


186 


VESTA ; 


'“I envy the soul that dies, for may it not be 
that it is ensphered with Frederick. Perhaps his 
very eyes are enshrined in yonder stars that beam 
in such flame-like purity. Alas! those stars!” 

“Ha! Cousin; forever talking to the stars. 
Come, we are already fixed up, and the girls desire 
an audience with you. When we get out upon the 
broad ocean, well interpret the stars for you—when 
no longer your heart will seem a battered wreck, 
but hurled from love’s stormy main to something 
more tangible.” 

“All right, Claude, I’ll go with you and learn 
of the girls their plans, and tell them of mine.” 

At this moment, the crowd assembled in Mrs. 
Howard’s room where all the arrangements were 
perfected for their departure on the next day. 

The girls, chaperoned by Claude, were ready to 
take the train for New York. The family accom¬ 
panied them to the depot. The parting adieus were 
given, and Aunt Tony’s were quite pathetic. 

“Lor, Miss Vesty, you slio gwine cross dem big 
waters, but don’t you let dat whale swallow you 
up like he did Jony—Mars Claude, you hear me; 
don’t you let dat big mouf varmint get dis chile.” 

“Oh, no! Aunt Tony; I’ll see that she’s all right.” 

“Good-bye! Mammy.” 

“Good-bye! God bless your heart. Oh, oh; 
Lordy! I can’t say dat word any more.” The fare¬ 
wells were given; Grandma uttered a prayer for 
their safe return, while Judge and Mrs. Howard 
impressed a kiss upon each cheek. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


187 


*•-**■*■**** 

They soon reached New York, where they joined 
a convivial party, and they all set sail at once for 
Liverpool. 

The day was calm and beautiful and the great 
steamer plied through the foaming waves, “scat¬ 
tering the diamond spray from her prow.” The sun 
sent its charming rays over the briny deep. As they 
advanced, the words of Lord Byron were repeated 
by Claude: 

“Roll on, thou dark and deep blue ocean, roll; 

Ten thousands fleets sweep over thee in vain— 

Man marks the earth with ruin, his control 
Stops with the shore.” 

“Come, Claude,” said Happie, “do give us a 
rest; what is writ is writ.” 

“Yes, true,” said Claude, but what a rapture 
there is in Byron’s ode—but a greater one in that 
old shark there following this vessel. He’ll enrap¬ 
ture us, if he gets his teeth upon us.” 

“You ai'e right; the process of evolution will be 
brought to bear upon us, sure enough.” 

“Yes, indeed; you will be conveyed where you’ll 
have to affiliate with submarines, and maybe in the 
course of countless ages, you’ll be transformed into 
some sort of a fish.” 

“Well, it had better be to this than to a monkey 
with a tail,” said Happie, “as Darwin would say 
in one of his stages of development.” 

“I declare,” said Vesta, “I could never tire look¬ 
ing at this immense ocean; its waves and its tides, 


188 


VESTA ; 


and its currents. It is, indeed, a wonderful mechan¬ 
ism.” 

“It is; would that we could see the bottom and 
behold the submarine scenery—the flora and fauna,” 
replied Katrine. 

“Would you not, Aunt Katrine, like to go a lit¬ 
tle farther north and come in contact with the 
floating icebergs. They are grand, as adventurers 
inform us, imitating cathedrals, palaces, pillars, 
arches and all sorts of towering objects.” 

“I should like to see them, but distance, I be¬ 
lieve, lends an enchantment I do not care to break.” 

“I had rather see the rock-builders and all the 
imaginable colors that the coral assumes. Where is 
the paradise of flowers that can rival such variety 
and beauty?” 

“I would gladly see the nautilus that Byron 
terms the fairy of the sea. The “Water World” gives 
such glowing accounts of these things; and, oh ! the 
scenery in the Indian ocean; it must be grand 
beyond conception.” 

“The flora and fauna bear every hue and wave 
in phosphorescent light, we are informed,” said 
Claude. “Du Bartas says in his poem that seas 
have: 

“Pinks, gilliflowers, mushrooms and many millions 
0£ other plants.”’ 

“Aside from the beauty of ocean vegetatio n, it 
is also useful, as it softens the currents of the rolling 
waters and lessens the violence with which the 


OK, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


189 


waves would otherwise break upon the shores of 
the land.” 

At last the sun was sinking into the waves, and 
the tourists gathered on deck to view the scene. 
Darkness succeeded the glowing twilight, and the 
crowd realized their first night upon the broad, 
broad ocean. For several days, the girls suffered 
from seasickness, but the considerate Captain Hall 
made everything conduce to their comfort. A gen¬ 
tleman and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Russell, whose 
pleasant acquaintance was made in New York, were 
specially attentive, and more than fulfilled the office 
of friends to them. Thevo 3 'age was delightful, with 
very little rough weather. 


190 


vesta ; 




CHAPTER XXVII. 

IN MERRIE ENGLAND. 

As they neared the shores of Ireland, an im¬ 
mense fog arose which prevented them from view¬ 
ing the first objects of land. Finally, the fog was 
lifted and, oh, joy! all eyes beheld “the gem of the 
sea”—the land with its high and rock} T shores. At 
length, they reached the kingdom of Great Britain. 
They were soon in Liverpool, where they concluded 
to rest awhile, after being so long confined to the 
limits of an ocean steamer. 

“Oh the delights of an English bed,” said Vesta. 

“Yes; I already inhale the lavender of which I 
have so often read.” 

Claude had gone out to forward letters home, 
and present others to friends of those he met in 
New York. With the aid of these, the young people 
enjoyed a good time in sight-seeing, visiting flower 
gardens, conservatories and every other attraction. 

“How delightful are the roses, the honeysuckles 
and, especially, the peonies, reminding me of m_y 
own Flora Crysta plants.” 

“The laurels,” said Katrine, “are tome morein- 
teresting, from their classic associations.” 

“These lovely birds are my delight,” rejoined 
Happie. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


191 


“My delight so far/’ replied Claude, “are the 
fine blooded horses, even those you see hitched to 
the common drays.” 

“I should think, Claude,” said Happie, “the don¬ 
key cast woxild suit you.” 

“Not so well as the driver, who is the greater 
ass of the two,” said Claude. 

“Speaking,” said Claude, “of Mr. and Mrs. 
Russell, our friends on the steamer, did you know 
they are closely related to Lord Russell, who suc¬ 
ceeded Lord Palmerston at the time when piratical 
cruisers in English harbors were fitted up in the 
name of the Southern Confederacy? But his policy 
was non-contributive, and he remained neutral dur¬ 
ing the conflict.” 

“He was then prime minister, as I understand^” 
replied Katrine. 

“Yes, and Mrs. Russell is near kin to him, and 
said when we reached London, she meant to intro¬ 
duce her son to us, and he would doubtless join us 
in our tour over the continent.” 

“That would be charming, Happie, to be 
escorted by one of the Russells.” 

“Equally so for one of the Russells to be 

escorted by young American girls,” rejoined Claude. 

“A happy retort,” remarked Yesta. “The sense 
of national pride is prevailing with Claude.” 

“It pulses as intensely through my brains as it 
does through Claude’s, but the effect of Mr. Russell’s 

attention will be grand, as he is. so royally de¬ 
scended. Don’t you think so, Katrine?” 


192 


VESTA ; 


Yes, it will be pleasant enough, I guess, Happie; 
but, changing the subject, there is something 
grander, for only behold those line buildings, and 
that lovely statuary.” 

“Let us hasten on, as we leave for London 
soon, where you’ll see the glory of Gothic architec¬ 
ture; then you may take on, Aunt Happie.” 

Leaving Liverpool, the tourists went to Birm¬ 
ingham, from thence to Warwick Castle, where they 
wereconducted through the immense halls’and were 
shown the pictures of the “illustrious dead of Eng¬ 
land.” Vesta was specially interested in Vandvke^s 
“Mary, Queen of Scots,” beautiful beyond expres- 
sion. 

This,” said the guide, “is conceded to be the 
best picture of the mournful Mary ever committed 
to canvas.” 

“It is indeed lovely,” replied Katrine, “and the 
artist must have been inspired bv her love and 
beauty.” 

“But look here!” exclaimed Claude; “Here’s 
another by Vandyke—the grandest of all!—Charles 
I., mounted on his fine horse.” 

“Here, too, is old Elizabeth in her puffs and 
curls, enough to make poor Mary Stuart arise 
from the tomb and tear her e3 r es ouf. ” 

But Mary, Happie, was not of that temper ” 

said Vesta. “Her affection, her womanly tears 
flung a spell over everyone, as her picture does over 
you.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


193 


The grounds around Warwick Castle are grand. 
Tall, stately trees greeted them on all sides, and 
they were particularly impressed with the immense 
“Cedars of Lebanon.” 

About eight miles from Warwick Castle, the 
young people visited the home of the immortal 
Shakespeare. 

“This is the very heart of England,” said 
Claude; “it is certainly the perfection of quietude, 
and oh! what sweet woodlands around.” 

At this moment an attendant passed around 
water, and Happie, gatheringthefirst glass, drank, 
saying: “This is to the ‘sweet swan of Avon.’ ” 

They passed all through the house, and into the 
room where the poet had sat when he penned those 
marvelous pages that fill the world. From the 
house, they repaired to the old parish church at 
Stratford, the tomb of Shakespeare, and there be¬ 
held his bust, modelled after a cast taken after his 
death. 

“It is strange,” said Katrine, “that a man of 
Shakespeare’s mind never had any religious belief, 
for as he wrote,‘To die is to go we know not where,’ 
and again he says, ‘We are such stuff as dreams are 
made of, and our little life is rounded with a sleep;’ 
and often as his questionings turn to the riddle of 
life and death, he leaves it but a riddle at last, 
without heeding any theological conclusions.” 

“There is but little reverence in any of these 
dramatic poets,” replied Claude; “for the specula- 


194 


VESTA; 


tions of theology interest them about as much as 
they do me.” 

“Ha! ha! Claude, you are about right on this. 
I have never yet been able to find your Christian 
faith. You are as silent as Shakepeare on this sub¬ 
ject.” 

“Come, Aunt Happie, none of your taunts. 
People who live in glass houses must never throw 
stones.” 

Here Claude walked again to the tomb, and 
read an inscription said to have been written by 
Shakespeare himself: 

“Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbear, 

To dig the dust enclosed heare— 

Blest be the man that spares these bones, 

And curs’t be he that moves my bones . 

“We can linger here no longer, as we leave this 
evening for Nottingham, and from thence through 
the country to Newstead; from there, we will go 
where sleeps your idol, Cousin Vesta, the inimitable 
Lord Byron.” 

“The grandest poet the world ever knew,” re¬ 
plied Vesta. 

“At once sulphurous and splendid,” continued 
Happie. • 

“Poor Byron,” Vesta said, as she stood by his 
tomb, “his first inspiration came by love, and it 
lasted to the end of his life. He truly loved well, but 
not wisely.” 

“Of nature proud and suspicious, ever ready to 
shower his “lampoons” upon the arrogant of Great 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


195 


Britain, warm and generous to a fault, whatever 
theme he touched, glowed beneath his pen, or 
gushed into torrents of passion and wrath. Every 
emotion of human nature was embodied in his 
strange, wild nature. His loves, griefs, hopes and 
fears found some counterpoise in his struggles with 
the world, but his only reward for his toils was 
the fame that follows, and will follow him to the 
end of time.” 

“All this is true, Claude.” Vesta spoke of 
Byron with her own sad recollections of the past. 
“Byron’s life was the soul of tragedy. If suffering 
coidd have expiated his offences, surety he would 
have atoned, it may be, as humanly as anyone ever 
did. I sympathize with him in his fidelity to her: 

‘Who was liis life— 

The ocean to the river of his thoughts.” 
******** 

“We are to-day in the whirlpool of life found in 
the largest city in the world. A city replete with 
the grandest, saddest and, at the same time, most 
humorous associations known to mankind.” 

“And, too, Claude, of fools petrified and fixed 
here for all time.” 

“Fie! Happie, you always turn everything to 
ridicule.” 

Upon reaching London, Fred Russell’s nephew 
called on the young ladies promptly, and from this 
time on showed them untiring attention, accom¬ 
panying them in their travels. Through this in- 


196 


VESTA ; 


fluence, the young tourists were presentecl to the 
Queen, Mr. Disraeli accompanying them. 

********* 

To-day Mr. Russell suggested a visit to the 
tomb of Milton, in the church of Cripplegate. 

“I hope now,” said Happie, “to hear angels 
chiming ‘Paradise Regained,’ it being such a place 
of pilgrimage.” 

. “Milton,” said Mr. Russell, “spoke of himself 
as musing on a poem, not to be raised from the 
heart of youth, or the vapors of wine, like that 
which flows from the pen of the amorist , nor to be 
obtained by the invocation of Dame Memory and 
her sister-daughters, but by devout prayer to that 
eternal Spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and 
knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the 
hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the 
lips of whom he pleases.” 

“His lips were surely touched,” replied Happie, 
“when he wrote‘Paradise Lost,’in which genius dis¬ 
plays itself so vividly.” 

% “Yes, it is only when we dwell upon the 
strangely blended elements, which constitute the 
poem, that we fully realize the great genius which 
fused them into a whole.” 

“ ‘Paradise Lost’ is said to be the ‘Epic of Puri¬ 
tanism,’and how is this, Mr. Russell?” said Claude. 

“Why, its scheme is the problem with which 
the Puritan wrestled in hours of gloom and dark¬ 
ness, the world-wide struggle of sin and redemp- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


197 


tion—of man's first disobedience and the fruits of 
that forbidden tree which brought sin into the 
world. 

“Let us now repair to another tomb, that of 
Spenser. It was about the time he landed at Bris¬ 
tol with his ‘Fairie Queen’ that England became ‘a 
nest of singing birds, moulding into order and har¬ 
monious form the life of the Renaissance.’ ” 

“ ‘The Fairie Queen’ conveyed the sentiments of 
the Elizabethan age, did it not?’’ said Claude. 

“Well, yes; as well as the Queen’s revels in shows, 
etc.” A 

“Poor Spenser,” said Vesta; “like many of his 
contemporaries, poverty and trouble overtook him, 
as well as love and he, too, died at last with a broken 
heart.” 

At these words, so mournfully uttered, young 
Russell, looked at Vesta and, for the first time, 
caught the beautiful expression of her splendid eye. 

Had this young American girl touched his heart? 
Surely he was fired with a sense of her surpassing 
charms, and was ready to agree with his father who 
had already told him how irresistible was her 
beauty ; but, far other thoughts swelled the bosom 
of Vesta with a passing motion. 

******** 

The reflections of the young people were inter¬ 
rupted by two Irishmen not far off in a regular 
fisticuff. They amused Mr. Russell and Claude ex¬ 
ceedingly. 


198 


VESTA; 


“Please look at those men,” said Happie, “that 
big man pounces upon the other like a booby upon 
his victim ; do separate them.” 

“Let them fight it out,” said Mr. Russell, and 
the girls passed on, Vesta remarking: 

“They desecrate these graves. I wish they 
would seek some other element.” 

The party returned to the hotel, where many 
letters awaited them from friends across the 
waters. Tears mingled with the sunshine of their 
lovely dreams of “Merrie old England.” On the fol¬ 
lowing day they visited many other places of inter¬ 
est a.nd then prepared to leave England for a short 
tour through Scotland. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


199 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

BONNIE SCOTLAND. 

“Ye banks and braes of Bonnie Doon, and poor 
Tam O Shanter and his old gray Maggie, ’ ’ exclaimed 
Claude, as they were conducted by Mr. Russell to 
the very spot of Alio way’s old haunted Kirk, and 
saw the little mud-walled cottage on the banks of 
Doon, the real birthplace of the peasant poet. 
There they called to mind the description of a “tall 
young, good-looking man with dark eyes and 
words and wit at will.” 

Claude was in sympathy with his ideal, Burns, 
having a soft word for all the lasses on whom he 
fixed his eyes, and equally as bold in love “tristes” 
and love excursions, and felt quite as much at home 
in bonnie “glens and nooks of hawthorne.” 

“I should have been like the Duchess of Gordon, 
carried completely off my feet with Robert Burns,” 
said Happie, “had my eyes ever beheld him.” 

The party went to Glasgow, visiting the me¬ 
tropolis, viewing the fine monumental sculptures; 
from thence to the castle of Dumbarton, memor¬ 
able with scenes of Wallace; thence to the highland 
scenery in its grandeur and loveliness; from there 
to the castle of Stirling, where Jdary Stuart was 
crowned queen, and where her undutiful son was 


200 


vesta; 


educated. At last to Edinburgh. They found them¬ 
selves at Holyrood Palace. 

Passing through the apartments of Mary, 
“silent, bare and desolate,” what visions of won¬ 
der passed over their young minds. Said Vesta, “I 
almost imagine the gleam of jewels decking the fair 
brow of the unfortunate, but most beautiful wom¬ 
an of the world.” 

“Here is the room of David Rizzio,so foully mur¬ 
dered by a mob; in which, too, the Queen was out¬ 
raged and insulted.” 

“Let’s leave here,” said the girls; “we almost 
imagine the death shrieks of JRizzio, wounding the 
hearts that had been so often and innocently be¬ 
guiled by his music.” 

From this visioned old castle, they visited Mel¬ 
rose by moonlight, oft repeating lines from Walter 
Scott’s “Lady of the Lake.” 

Before leaving Scotland the dream of their finest 
anticipations was realized in visiting the celebrated 
cave of Strathaird, an account of which they had 
read by Dr. McLay, of Oban. 

“The entrance to this celebrated cave is un¬ 
promising, but the light of the torches was soon 
reflected from roof, floor and walls, which seem 
sheeted with marble, partly smooth, partly rough 
with frost work and rustic ornaments, and partly 
seeming to be wrought into statuary. The floor 
forms a steep and difficult ascent and is compared to 
a sheet of water, which, while it rushed whitening 
and foaming down a steep declivity, had been sud- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


201 


denly arrested by an enchanter. Upon attaining the 
summit to the ascent, the cave opens into a splendid 
gallery adorned with the most dazzling crystalliza¬ 
tion, and finally descends into a pool of the most lim¬ 
pid water, about four or five yards broad. There 
opens beyond this pool a portal arch, formed by 
two columns of white spar, with beautiful chasing 
upon the sides which promises a continuation of 
the cave. The pool might have been a bathing 
grotto of a maid.” 

The owner of this cave has fixed up an entrance 
to it in order that tourists may be properly guided 
and prevent any injury to the interior beauties fur¬ 
nished. This, of all scenes in Scotland, interested 
Claude and the girls most and recalled to them the 
poem of Walter Scott’s termed “Lord of the Isles. ” 
Claude, in his regret on leaving a land so en¬ 
deared to him from its boyish associations, repeated 
to the girls the lines from Burns : 

“Farewell to the highlands, farewell to the North, 

The birthplace of valor, the country of worth; 

Wherever I wander, wherever I rove 
My heart’s in the highlands forever I love.” 


202 


VESTA; 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

IN PARIS AND ROME. 

In Paris ! What a world of wonder and enchant¬ 
ment! Paris, the gayest of the gay—the heart of 
fashions, the inspiration of enthusiasm and senti¬ 
ment. 

The girls stood a mild morning in June, 
when no cloud appeared in the blue heavens, gazing 
on the panorama of wonders before their eyes. 
Each answered each according to their varied 
emotions. Katrine’s mind wandered to the storms 
of revolution when the patriotic appeals of Mad¬ 
ame Roland thrilled upon the ears of France and 
when perished the Girondists, the founders of the 
Republic. Vesta’s to the lovqlv and generous Jos¬ 
ephine, clinging in womanly faith to her loved Na¬ 
poleon, charming kings and cabinets with the 
sweetness of her pure life. Happie’s to the unfor¬ 
tunate Louis and his beloved Marie Antoinette, 
dragged without mercy to the guillotine, and who 
there losthis life for the sins of haughty, oppressive, 
profligate princes, who had for centuries trodden 
upon the necks of their subjects. A rising conflict 
between plebeian and patrician, between democrat 
and aristocrat. She instinctively exclaimed : 

“Thank heaven we live in a land of freedom and 
under a republican government.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


203 


At one moment the girls, guided by Mr. Russell 
and Claude, might be seen gliding along the boule¬ 
vards, viewing gilded coaches with servants in 
showy livery; from thence to the Tuilleries, abound¬ 
ing in a world of luxury; from thence to gorgeous 
palaces; thence to Versailles, once the lovely abode 
of the noble Josephine. 

“It was a terrible time when kings and queens 
were hurled from their grand abodes, their thrones 
demolished, and they cast into the most loathsome 
dungeons/’ said Mr. Russell to Claude. “Indeed, it 
is too horrible to recall.” 

Next the young tourists, at the tomb of Napo¬ 
leon, followed him through his chequered career. 
They recalled the field of Waterloo,“where the star 
of his destiny again rose over the horizon and 
struggled with its ancient strength to mount the 
heavens of fame. The battle cloud rolled over it 
and when it again was swept away, that star had 
gone down, sunk in blood and carnage, to rise no 
more forever.” Buthisname yet revives that hom¬ 
age, which the world cannot withhold, and it has 
outlived the slanders of his foeman and the 
falsehoods of monarchists. The crowd left Paris 
by way of Geneva and at last reached the seven- 
hilled city of pilgrimage, Rome! 

“Rome,” said Claude, “where seven hills prop¬ 
ped a glory that doomed the world. 

“Tlie fount at which the panting mind assuages 
Her thirst of knowledge, quaffing there her fill, 

Flows from the eternal source of Rome’s imperial hill.” 


204 


VESTA; 


“Standing on the Palatine, lam here so forcibly 
reminded,” said Katrine, “of Lord Byron’s rehear¬ 
sal of the cypress, ivy and flowers, all matted and 
massed together, the hillocks heaped on what once 
were chambers ; of the crushed arches and columns 
and no one able to tell, but what they were 
temples, baths and halls, that once distinguished 
the imperial mount.” 

“The Forum,”sajdMr. Russell, “where the very' 
air became eloquent with voices of the past; 
with Rienzi, the Forum’s champion. Let us place 
a garland where once he stood, that will reflect the 
glory of his name.” 

From the Forum to the Coliseum, where 
Rome built all her triumphs in this wondrous mon¬ 
ument. 

“We’ll visit it again,” said Happie, “by moon¬ 
light, when the azure gloom of an Italian night as¬ 
sumes hues which shadow more beautifully its full 
glory.” 

The Pantheon next was greeted as the sanc¬ 
tuary and home of art and piety. From thence 
Mr. Russell conducted the young ladies to St. 
Peters, where Claude quoted from Byron: 

“Power, glory, strength, and beauty all are aisled, 

In that eternal ark of worship undefiled.” 

“This,” said Happie, “does full justice to St. 
Peters; so we’ll pass on.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


205 


But Vesta stopped to admire its vastness and 
elegance; its rich marbles, paintings, lamps of gold 
and the climax of all, the Holy Virgin. Then giv¬ 
ing away to the divine inipulse that moved her, she 
upbraided everybody who denounced the faith of 
those pure Catholics who shone with such lustre 
of immortality. To her, the holy “incense exhaled 
a grateful odor” and created a misty splendor, at all 
times, grand and heavenly. In beholding all such 
grandeur consecrated to God, she instinctively re¬ 
peated : 


“Yet, for a tongue to speak my heart, 

To speak with mimic faintness, all, 

All that this soul would fond impart, 

Impart of rapture, transport, thrall.” 

Suddenly the stirring tones of the great organ 
broke the stillness of the scene, and to the surprise 
of all, file upon file of men, hooded nuns and the 
Pope at the head, ascended the steps and advancing 
to the altar, a scene of wonder unfolds in the devo¬ 
tions of the mass, capable of moving the most ob¬ 
durate hearts of observers. This was in one of 
those solemn festivals, where the church appears in 
its true glory. 

******** 

But in all these scenes of enchantment, the 
dream of love haunted Mr. Russell’s life, in his admir¬ 
ation of the beautiful young American girl. This 
was only repaid however, by a gentle, calm demeanor. 


206 


VESTA; 


Vesta admired Mr. Russell. He had charmed her in 
his descriptive powers and intellectual attainments. 
The oft-told tale must be repeated. She stood 
triumphant in her past devotion, which lifted her 
soul above all things earthly to a region where she 
imagined she beheld her only ideal of love in the 
radiance of heaven. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


207 


CHAPTER XXX. 

VENICE. 

From Rome, the crowd went to Venice, where 
they beheld a city rise as if by the wand of an en¬ 
chantress, “throned on her hundred isles.” 

‘ “She indeed appears like a sea Cybele rising from 
her towers. This is the bride of the sea,” remarked 
Katrine, who was indeed charmed. 

Standing in the Campnile, they had a grand 
view of the islands and the far-away countries of 
the sea, the most attractive view being the gilding 
of the snow-topped Alps by the setting sun. Vesta 
was particularly interested in the rowing habits of 
the people. “Those beautiful gondolas remind 
me of a floating nautilus,” said she, “with its oar¬ 
like appendages.” 

Invited by Mr. Russell, she consented to go out 
into the canal by moonlight. It was a lovely even¬ 
ing and delicious music greeted them from every 
source. They passed palaces and churches, “floated 
under the Rialto and near the Palace of St. Mark’s, 
and viewing all along the finest churches in the 
world,” glorified by moonlight. There she lay, mar¬ 
velous Venice, in her stately silence, now solemn 
and shadowy, now light and luminous; one might 
imagine with the poet that she’d vanish with the 


208 


VESTA; 


vanishing moonlight, and disappear in the deeps 
from which she had been conjured. 

PaSvSing “the Bridge of Sighs,” Vesta remarked : 
“No one can pass here without a shudder; it 
seems such a haunted old place, leading from a 
prison to a judgment place.” 

“To-morrow, Miss Vesta, I wish you togo with 
me to the academy of fine arts. I once took a 
young lady there and she became so enthused I can 
never forget it; it was over one of Titian’s great 
masterpieces. By the bye, she was an American girl 
and in many things you remind me of her; she was 
surely one of the most fascinating girls lever met.” 

“May I ask her name, Mr. Russell?” 

“She was a Miss Pauline Lamar, from the State 
of Virginia.” 

“Pauline Lamar? My heaven, Mr. Russell, do 
you mean this?” and Vesta turned very pale. 

“That surely was her name, but why, Miss 
Vesta, are you so startled? Do you know her and 
have I touched a tender chord in your heart?” 

“Not at all, but I believe we had best return as 
I feel somewhat wearied.” 

Mr. Russell had a vague feeling that the name 
of Pauline Lamar had wrought a sudden change in 
Vesta’s demeanor and what could be the spell?—he 
dared not ask. 

As they were leaving the gondola, Vesta inquir¬ 
ed of Mr. Russell where the young lady mentioned 
resided. He replied that she lived near London with 
an aunt, and catching these words, she gave Mr. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


209 


Russell her hand and bade him a tender good night. 
She could not await the morning to inform Claude 
of what had passed; but bade him say nothing, 
but to find out the fate of Frederick, if possible. She 
knew he could do this without compromising her; 
but she was frantic in view of what she might 
learn. The precaution was prompt and decisive. 

He managed to interview Mr. Russell and grad¬ 
ually broke the question to him in regard to Miss 
Pauline and her brother. “And do you know,” said 
he, “that I once knew Miss Lamar, and was inti¬ 
mately acquainted with her brother Frederick, a 
young Confederate captain, who was reported to 
have fallen into the hands of the enemy mortally 
wounded. Can you inform me where or how he 
died.” 

“Died?” said Russell, “Frederick Lamar is well- 
known, but not dead. He is in England some¬ 
where. I am not posted as to his whereabouts, but 
lean ascertain.” 

Claude suppressed his surprise, and turned 
the subject, lest he create suspicion as to his 
motives. On his return to the hotel, he at 
once sought Vesta, and with the first glance be¬ 
trayed his emotions. 

Vesta was overcome by the news, but could 
not understand why Frederick had left America 
without explaining his condition to her. 

“What could this mean?” Sorrow for the lost 
was succeeded by wounded pride. “If I am banished 


210 


vesta ' 


from his love, I can bear it—I will bear it! From 
my dreams I’ll awake to a reality.” 

Woman’s nature triumphs over resentment and 
she burst into a flood of tears. Again her spirit 
wings its flight to the last interview with Captain 
Lamar—she forgets everything and madly says to 
herself: “No, he has not forgotten me; or why 
should he hold the cross? I’ll demand it anyway, 
if I can find his address.” 

“You must now, dear cousin, exercise great pa¬ 
tience. There is surely something wrong, for Fred 
is incapable of fraud or deception.” 

“No, Claude; his love forme has assumed a dif- 
erent attitude and I’ll bear it all!” 

“It is cruel to judge a man who loved as he did 
without knowing the circumstances of the case.” 

The girls soon found the state of things, and 
the course they pursued, beautifully illustrates the 
power of noble minds, in doing all they could to 
quiet Vesta. She found great solace in the love of 
these who were so dear to her, even in the pangs of 
ill-requited love, as she then deemed hers to be. 
Vesta bore up bravely, and no heroine ever shed 
greater lustre upon human nature by the cheerful 
fortitude with which she braved her supposed 
wrongs. 

Another day was spent in Venice and the young 
people concluded to return to Paris where the}" 
had formed so many nice acquaintances. 

“Another drive in that beautiful and healthful 
city,” said Vesta, “will refreshme, for I feel ingoing 


oR, ?HE HIDDEN CROSS 


211 


back there, like I was going to my own beautiful 
Flora Crystal’ 

“The French are so chivalrous, and I like them,” 
said Happie; “so let’s go at once.” 

They reached their “haven of rest” in a few 
days—but here we pause with untold horror. 

* ******* 

While they were out walking on one of the finest 
streets, an incident occurred which more than any¬ 
thing agitated them beyond conception. A woman 
with tattered garments, an enraged countenance, 
and fury in her eyes, and foam on her lips, ap¬ 
proached them, and seizing a pistol from her per¬ 
son, pointed it directly at Vesta, exclaiming, “Ah! 
you rebel; now is my time for vengeance. I’ll kill 
you, and woe to the man who resists me.” 

In a second, a young man grasped the pistol and 
draggedthe wretch away, holding her with a lion’s 
strength, thus saving the life of the innocent Ves¬ 
ta, who sank fainting and exhausted from fright. 
A physician was summoned to her side, and admin¬ 
istered medicine. Happie and Katrine were frantic, 
and Claude was so overcomb he scarcely knew 
what to do. Mr. Russell alone preserved his presence 
of mind, and running for a bottle of wine, insisted 
that each should take a glass, which they did greatly 
to their relief. Then scattering the crowd and 
gathering around Vesta, they were overjoyed to 
find Major DeKray standing over her, for it was 
he who had thus rescued her from death. 


212 


VESTA; 


As consciousness returned, Vesta looked up 
and said, “Oh! Major, you have saved my life. Let 
me thank you, my good friend/’ 

“That woman was the detested Louise Angelo,’’ 
the Major said to Claude and the girls; “and how 
glad I am that she did not hurt you, Miss Vesta, for 
had she done so, I would have killed her on the spot.’’ 

Tears continued to flow from the girls, and the}’ 
begged to have Vesta removed to the hotel, which 
was soon accomplished by Mr. Russell and Major 
DeKray. 

Louise Angelo was taken to police quarters, 
where in resisting the officers, she was instantly 
shot and hurried to an ignominious burial. 
Hearing that Warren DeKray had been led by 
Miss Howard to Europe, Louise had followed him 
and determined to kill both. There is no pleasure 
in contemplating a character like this. Louise had 
mind enough to render her worthy of a better des¬ 
tiny among her sex, bqt there her quality in any¬ 
thing human ended. In the evils of a corrupt as¬ 
sociation, she grew from bad to worse and at last 
presented a character that outraged hnty man 
and dragged others into the vortex of ruin and dis¬ 
grace. 

The incident just related was published in all 
the papers in Paris and London, but the sad cir¬ 
cumstances were withheld from Flora Cryta, at 
Vesta’s special request. 

“It would kill mother,’’ said she; “then my 
life would indeed be a blank.” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


218 


The heart of Major DeKray swelled with pride 
as he received the commendations of his friends in 
rescuing the beautiful girl. 

“I’ll never forget this act,’’said Vesta. “Ah! that 
was the most thrilling event I ever knew. Major 
DeKray’s conduct to me has paved a way for a 
more cordial feeling, than I have ever entertained 
—could I find it in my heart to love him, I would 
do so, but that would be impossible, but I will 
love him as a friend forever, and will treat him as 
such. Yes, even as a brother.” 

“If I were in the Major’s place,” said Claude, 
“I would put forth superhuman efforts to keep the 
advantage I had gained over you, Cousin Vesta, 
and—and—and—’ ’ 

“And what?” said Vesta. “You know me 
Claude. I am as invulnerable as Achilles in love 
matters. I would never dishonor my heart by mar¬ 
rying through a sense of gratitude. No! love is 
made of sterner stuff, and settled on a broader 
basis, which cannot be fathomed—but, hush! here 
comes Mr. Russell; let’s talk of somethingin regard 
to our future plans.” 


214 


vesta; 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

FREDERICK LAMAR IN EUROPE. 

One cannot follow Vesta through all her en¬ 
gagements and excursions in Paris after her recov¬ 
ery, but must now return to Frederick Lamar, and 
the events which bear upon our narrative. After 
being wounded and falling into the hands of the 
enemy, he lingered a long time, impatient of the 
restraint that at times became insubordinate, but 
firm as a rock in his determination to leave the 
country and make his future home in Europe. Al¬ 
ways the first in a desperate onset in battle, expos¬ 
ing himself where death reaped down the bravest, 
so he made up his mind to bear the disappointment 
in his love affairs. He was shocked and surprised 
when Paris, at the instigation of his mother, de¬ 
manded the ‘hidden cross/’ which he had discovered 
on Lamar’s person accidentally. He was approached 
by Paris, and in the name of Vesta, required to 
return it. Not suspecting any treachery, and ask¬ 
ing for no explanation, he promptly gave it up, 
feeling however, that he had been unjustly and 
cruelly dealt with, and especially by the girl he loved 
better than his own life, and in whom he had ever 
placed the most unlimited confidence. Scorning to 
icturn to Ceoigia, the very name of Flora Crvsta 
added ten-fold sorrow to the wound which afflict¬ 
ed his body. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


215 


“Yes, I’ll go to Europe, where I may never hear 
the name of Vesta mentioned. I am no w ready for 
martyrdom, ready for any emergency that stands 
on the threshold of this long struggle in my poor 
heart.” He grew desperate. “I’ll go to see my 
friends once more and then follow my father on the 
broad ocean, that engulfed his dear form.” 

He left the North, where he had been as a pris¬ 
oner of war and where he had many kind friends, 
and also, too, where he had been treated with great 
kindness and affection. Embarking on a vessel 
bound for England, he reached his aunt’s home, a 
lovely villa near London, about the last of June, a 
few months previous to the advent of the young 
tourists on the continent. Every thought and feel¬ 
ing was needed to wring his heart from the past. 
The old love at times would return with its wonted 
fury, and the tears of a noble man fell on the fra¬ 
grant flowers around him in some mysterious asso¬ 
ciation of the paradise lost to him. But the tide 
was fora while turned, which made fearful inroads 
upon him and his sister, Pauline. 

The very summer which brought Captain Lamar 
to the residence of Mrs. Byrd, brought also the 
death of this most estimable lady. He took his 
place by her bedside during her protracted illness, 
and nursed her as if she had been his own dear 
mother. Mrs. Byrd, on hearing her physician pro¬ 
nounce her case hopeless, called for pen, paper 
and ink and, in the presence of witnesses, executed 
her last will, bequeathing her home and her vast 


216 


VESTA; 


property to Frederick and Pauline. Referring to 
a sealed paper in her house, drawn up years before, 
which were found to contain titles to her property, 
both in London and in Savannah, Georgia. Her 
death was calm and serene, and on her lovely brow, 
“peace sat like a winged dove,” her voice murmur¬ 
ing prayers for the children of her adoption. Her 
soul, sweetly stayed by a faith pure as it was devout, 
she passed away from the shores of time to land in 
a beautiful eternity. 

Frederick and Pauline were now left alone in 
the wide, wide world. They were heartbroken in 
giving up their best earthly friend, who lived for 
their happiness alone, and whose society was ever 
congenial to them. In the care of Pauline and the 
management of the estate, Frederick exhibited the 
same character and judgment that ever distin¬ 
guished him. He never appeared to better advan¬ 
tage than when devoting his energies and gallantry 
to his sister, and she in return was as fond in her de¬ 
votion as a sister could possibly be. She seemed to 
feel the importance of the great mission with which 
she was intrusted—to live for her home and her 
brother. The voice of a sister’s affection spoke 
louder than the thunder of a battle’s artillery, and 
his character was then settled on a permanent basis. 
* * * * * * * * 

One morning Frederick was walking in the 
flower garden of his delightful home, which had 
furnished every attraction to his mind. Hesat down 
in a summer-house to glance over the morning pa- 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


217 


per. His eye followed column after column. At 
length, discovering a notice, he sank back quite ex¬ 
hausted on the seat, turned pale and called Pauline. 
In an instant, she joined him, and begged to know 
the cause of his pale look. 

“Read this notice, and see what in the world it 
means. Will wonders never cease?” 

“But let me administer to you first,” said his 
sister; “you seem to be sick.” 

“No, read and let me hear it all.” 

Pauline read as follows, her eyes, however, 
continually turning to Frederick : 

A THRILLING AFFAIR THAT CAME NEAR ENDING 
IN A SAD TRAGEDY. 

At four o’clock on the-of June, on one of the finest 

streets in Paris, a beautiful and famed young American girl, a 
Miss Yesta Howard, from the State of Georgia, came near be¬ 
ing assassinated. As she turned a corner in company with Wil¬ 
liam Russell, of London, and several young ladies, she 
was suddenly accosted by a vile wretch of a woman, who, draw¬ 
ing a concealed weapon from her person, aimed it directly up¬ 
on her—in an endeavor to take her life. At this critical 
and fearful moment, she was rescued by a gallant 
young man, who jerked the pistol from the assailant’s 
hand and thus rescued this innocent girl from an untimely and 
cruel death. 

The furious woman was arrested by a mob and borne tp po¬ 
lice quarters where, in resisting the law, she was instantly killed. 

Miss Howard was surrounded by friends and in her utter 
exhaustion, borne to her hotel, where she is now receiving the 
attention of the best physicians in Paris, and where she may 
be found by her numerous friends and admirers in the city. 


218 


VESTA ; 


“Oh! brother,” said Pauline, “this surely can’t 
be our Vesta. Let us hasten at once to Paris and 
see her.” 

“We will go at oilce,” said Frederick, overcome 
by every emotion of his soul. A deep melancholy 
again settled on his soul. All the cords of his sen¬ 
sitive nature vibrating, only responsive to the love 
of the past. He once more felt irrepressible long¬ 
ings to be with Vesta, even though she might spurn 
him. He freely gave utterance to his feelings to 
Pauline, who determined to leave with him on the 
very next boat. 

In a few hours Pauline was ready and the 
two started to Paris in search of the idol¬ 
ized Vesta. They reached the goal of their desires, 
and repaired to the same hotel where the American 
tourists were stopping. The first who accosted 
them was Claude, who was never so surprised and 
overjoyed in his whole life. He knew not what to 
do or what to say. Many words passed between 
him and Captain Lamar, in all of which Vesta’s, 
conduct was fully vindicated. 

“But,” said Frederick: “How, Claude, about 
the cross? Why did she demand that cross—the 
pledge of constancy to me—without any explana¬ 
tion whatever. That cross, which was to be to 
me in affliction and sorrow, a boon from heaven, 
and forever corrode my happiness by such faith¬ 
lessness, as it appeared. It seemed cruel and as 
heartrending to myloveastomy pride,” 


OR, the hidden cross. 


219 


“The cross,” said Claude, “I really cannot ac¬ 
count for this, as I know Cousin Vesta never auth¬ 
orized its demand.” 

“ f ’Tis indeed strange, and there was treason 
somewhere —something I cannot unravel, and 
which I have never tried to fathom, as I felt it was 
Miss Vesta’s request that I return it.” 

“1 know cousin has worn a hidden diamond 
ring, and never ceased wearing it until she was in¬ 
formed of your being in Europe. She had grieved 
herself almost to death, supposing you were dead. 
Uncle, seeing her health declining, consented for her 
to leave home and visit foreign lands. The expe¬ 
dient for her health was adopted, and she 
certainly improved until the shock she received 
in the incident of an assault upon her life. Uncle 
was over-anxious for her to marry Warren DeKray, 
knowing his brilliant fortune and fine attainments. 
I saw the melancholy forebodings that oppressed 
her mind, and so informed Aunt Marie, who, with 
woman’s ingenuity, struck upon the remedy, in 
sending her from home. Cousin never entertained 
an idea of marrying anyone, and as to DeKray, she 
avoided the subject with him, as with a viper.” 

At this recital, Frederick’s whole frame shook 
with emotion, and he gave vent to a flood of tears. 
He replied with deep, impassioned words, “Marry 
DeKray!” An expression of contempt escaped his 
lips in the excitement of the moment. Never be¬ 
fore had he in any way betrayed the total want 
of congeniality between himself and Major Dc- 


220 


VESTA; 


Kray. The old love was enkindled, the mystery of 
the cross broke in upon his mind with truthful 
force. There was no further hesitation. 

“But, Claude, you’ll pardon me; I wrong, the 
man who saved Vesta’s life. The shadows of 
jealousy that have of late eclipsed my brightness of 
heart unfit me to speak of him. I shall hereafter 
feel the inestimable privilege of calling him my 
friend, if he will but allow this, and tender him 
the olive branch to bloom in the waste of love.” 

They continued the conversation uninterrupt¬ 
edly. Frederick made no allusion to his pecuniary 
condition, but informed Claude of his aunt’s death 
and the effect upon his feelings. 

“I am anxious to see Miss Vesta. She is better, 
you say, and has quite recovered from the shock 
sustained?” 

“Oh! yes, and will be glad to see you.” 

“I only wish I could think so,” said Frederick, 
nervously. 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


221 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

AN EXPLANATION. 

In the meantime, Pauline had made her way to 
Vesta’s room, where she was received by the girls 
with the greatest surprise, mingled with the 
intensest emotions. It is hardly possible to imagine 
the feelings that inspired Vesta as she thought of 
meeting Frederick Lamar. Claude held a secret in¬ 
terview with his cousin and prepared her mind for 
a meeting. It was Frederick’s wish to see her alone, 
which was granted. 

“How shall I meet PTederick, Claude,” said 
Vesta, “after so many months of estrangement on 
his part?” 

“All this is wrong, cousin, and Fred will ex¬ 
plain matters; he has been the wronged one and 
he has paid the penalty.” 

“Well, I will see him at any rate, even if it does 
incur wrath upon my head.” 

She forgot all other obligations. She returned 
to a private parlor. A gentle tap at the door, which 
was duly answered, and Frederick Lamar and Vesta 
Howard stood face to face with each other, after 
so many long, weary months of anxiety. The sight 
of her beautiful face and the sound of the voice 
that had charmed his life, revived every impression 
of the past. 


Vesta ' 




“Is it a vision?” he exclaimed, “this ravishment 
of soul that brings me to my angel?’’ With these 
words, he drew her passionately to his bosom with¬ 
out thinking. Vesta remonstrated and begged of 
him to act dispassionately and to remember the re¬ 
lations existing between them. ' 

“You are mine,” he said, “then why should you 
not allow me to kiss you after so long a separa¬ 
tion?” 

After hours of explanation and tender words, 
Frederick again entreated Vesta to marry him at once. 
Vesta made up her mind to marry him, but her 
mind was still perplexed as to her father’s wishes 
but said she: “I must makeup my mind to encounter 
all the unpleasant circumstances in which you will 
be involved should we marry.” 

You must not mind this, for I can now assure 
3 r ou that I am prepared for any emergencv, and 
can take care of you and elevate you to yotir same 
position in society independent of any consideration 
from your father.” 

In any sphere I would be happy with you, 
Frederick.” 

“Well, Vesta, how glad I am to hear you talk 
thus. How would you like to live near London? 
There I have jointly with Pauline, an elegant villa 
all fitted up to receive you, and should your father 
persist in opposition to me, we can make our home 
there and be as happy as birds in a nest. This home 
is in a sequestered place, luxuriant with vegetation, 
with serpentine walks, embowered in odoriferous 


0R, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


m 


and flowering shrubs, resembling somewhat your 
own home in Georgia.’’ 

“Yes, but I could never be so far from mother. 
Already my heart aches to see the loved ones across 
the broad old ocean.” 

“All this will be right, my darling, and if you 
choose, we’ll have as beautiful a home in America as 
you desire.” 

“I’ll agree to marry you, Frederick, but it is best 
to inform father of my determination, and he will 
consent. Mother never has objected.” 

“As you say, it shall be my pleasure to execute; 
but, it must not be long before I can call you my 
wife, for I can bear this separation no longer.” 

The evening passed and Vesta hastened to com¬ 
municate her intentions to Claude and her aunts 
Katrine and Happie. Pauline was overwhelmed 
with delight in view of what would make her 
brother so happy, and all together, they enjoyed a 
social chat over the wedding in prospect. 

News was at once conveyed to Georgia of Ves¬ 
ta’s intentions, in a letter addressed by Claude to 
his uncle; also, in a letter addressed by Captain La¬ 
mar. Claude, in pursuance of his plan of reconcilia¬ 
tion, explained the condition of Captain Lamar to 
the Judge, assuring him that all would be for the 
best in ever}^ particular. His persuasive influence 
prevailed and the consent to the marriage was read¬ 
ily sent back. With one grand object in view—the 
future welfare of his daughter—he now seemed to 
view Frederick Lamar in an entirely different light, 


224 


VESTA: 


and expressed a desire to have the marriage take 
place at Flora Crysta, but Frederick would not 
listen to any proposition delaying matters. With¬ 
out entering into details, arrangements were soon 
perfected for a consummation of matters, and the 
marriage was to take place in London. 

The tourists left Paris and joined by Major De- 
Kray, who had been informed of all that had hap¬ 
pened, reached London in due time, Frederick and 
Pauline returning to their own home and the rest 
taking board in their same pleasant hotel, where 
they had before enjoyed so much real pleasure. 

In the conduct of Major DeKray, who had been 
insisted on by Captain Lamar and Vesta to join 
them, there is a startling magnanimity. Few who 
understand the human heart will doubt his feelings 
in the matter, for which, Vesta felt truly sorry ; but 
such was his admiration for her, that he was will¬ 
ing to cancel everything and follow her even to the 
end of the world. Nor did he feel that in this, he 
compromised his independence of character? In 
his views of life he was always peculiar. 

“I am no judge,” said he, “of other people’s hap¬ 
piness, but I pursue that which contributes to my 
own, though I may be condemned.” 

He remarked to Claude: “In the marriage so 
soon to take place, it is full of hope and promise; 
the very angels look to its issues, and no wonder 
that the advent of Lamar is hailed with the full¬ 
ness of Miss Vesta’s hopes.” 


OR, the HiDbEti CROSS. 

“This,” replied Claude, “is the consummation of 
a long fixedness of purpose, which no vicissitude 
could reach or change.” 


226 


VESfrA; 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 
love’s triumph. 

The long wished for day arrived which was to 
blend two devoted hearts into one, and in con¬ 
formity with the English custom, Frederick Lamar 
and Vesta Howard were pronounced man and wife. 

The marriage scene was enchanting, and the 
sensation created by the handsome groom and the 
queenly bride, attended by Major DeKray, Mr. 
Russell, Claude Ashton, Miss Pauline Lamar, Hap- 
pie and Katrine Stafford, was indeed intense. Ves¬ 
ta was more beautiful than ever. Attired in the 
Alary of Scots style—pure white silk, embroidered in 
lilies, with full train and a veil that covered her 
entire form—she seemed like a vision of poetic 
beauty. The other girls were elegantly dressed, 
and inspired every one with enthusiasm and ad¬ 
miration. The festivities in honor of the marriage 
continued several days, all of which quickened the 
ardor of Claude, who communicated everything to 
Flora Crysta. Frederick returned with his wife 
and her friends to his own home, where they were 
royally entertained until time for their return to 
America. 

Nothing could exceed the happiness of the 
newly-married couple. All fears and anxieties 
were lulled into the most quiet repose. The forms 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


227- 


and ceremonies of society could keep Frederick’s 
mind hardly for an hour from his wife. With the 
same fondness, Vesta devoted herself to her hus¬ 
band. The same star that beamed upon his happi¬ 
ness in their private interviews at Flora Crysta, 
arose over his pathway at his own home, and he 
welcomed it as his guide through all eternity. 

“Your sweetness and your purity won me, and 
those same qualities shall hold me forever.” 
***** *** 

On a bright summer afternoon, gazing upon 
the crowded thoroughfares of London, might be 
seen Captain Lamar and his lovely bride drawn by 
the most beautiful horses in fine trappings. 
******** 

After spending several weeks in London, the 
tourists, accompanied by Pauline, set forth from 
England, bidding farewell to the hosts of friends 
they had made. Mr. Russell was quite melancholy in 
the turn affairs had taken, but he bade them a 
fond adieu y and promised to visit the United States 
at some future time and make Georgia his head¬ 
quarters. 

In. the meantime, Judge Howard, wishing 
to make the marriage of his daughter, not only the 
means of confirming his reconciliation, but of estab¬ 
lishing the fondest relations with Frederick, 
therefore, resolved upon paying marked and honor¬ 
able attention to him and his sister. He made prep- 
parations on an extended scale for their reception. 


228 


VESTA; 


******** 

Once more at home, Vesta could now receive the 
congratulations of her friends, and introduced her 
husband as the partner of her joys and the central 
star in Flora Crysta. This was the auspicious hour 
when this fruitful union of all hearts begun. The 
prophetic visions of the Judge in regard to his 
daughter’s welfare were more than realized in Fred¬ 
erick Lamar. 

“I have done wrong; I see it—I feel it all. My re¬ 
gard for Frederick must atone for the wrong. I 
wish I could atone for my ingratitude to one so 
true to my daughter.” 

Vesta’s mother and grandmother pressed Fred¬ 
erick to their hearts, and with these demonstrations, 
he soon felt he was under a paternal rpof. 

But what of poor old Aunt Tony? She must 
ever be regarded with gentle care. Extending her 
congratulations in a most solemn and imposing 
manner, she said: 

“I know’d by de stars Miss Vesty was gwine 
to marry dat man what was dead. Bless de Lord, 
he’s done passed through de fire and come out a 
live man. I thought Miss Vesty’s tears would 
bring him from de grave of Jerusalem when she 
went over dem waters.” 

“Well, mammy,” said Happie, “you will have 
to stay with me now as your child is married.” 

“No, you bet I aint a gwine to leeb her. I specs 
to stay here and nurse her chilluns jest like I did 
her,” 


OR, THE HIDDEN CROSS. 


229 


With these words, Claude just holloed and 
said : “Now, Aunt Happie, you see the direction of 
Aunt Tony’s enterprises for the future.’’ 

******** 

The return home was like a triumphal entry of 
a queen into her own dominion. The oracle from 
Mike Barnaby’s had said that, “all would be well,” 
and argued tthe expediency of Vesta’s going abroad. 
Never yet have the young people detected the web 
of fallacy in her fortune-telling, as everything has 
ended with such happy results. The faithful 
prophetess, however, did not long outlive the proof 
of her foretellings, but died a few months after the 
young people returned from Europe. 

It was not very long before Claude awoke a 
bond of union between himself and Pauline. 

“I had thought,” said he, “I would never 
marry, but what is a man to do when looked upon 
by such an angel of light? Concealed in woman is the 
mainspring of every thought and action, and Paul¬ 
ine is to me an earnest of heaven’s favor, for which 
I do rejoice.” 

We here leave Cousin Claude, and only regret 
that time has been so fleeting since first we met him 
in his boyish sport, in ever} r little nook, every 
favorite resort, forever ringing with his merry 
laugh, calling up such beautiful dreams and shed¬ 
ding such a halo over the gilded past, amid the 
wreathed smiles of his companions, the three gentle, 
loving maidens of Flora Crysta. 


280 


VESTA ; 


Ill due course of time, Happie and Katrine also 
married and settled down. Major DeKray, repaid 
for his noble deeds in behalf of Mrs. May, won to 
his heart Miss Julia Proctor, and pressed forward 
to achievements which it became him to attempt in 
fresh and untrodden fields of enterprise. The Keeles 
and Werners kept up their u§ual forms and cere¬ 
monies, with the intrepidity to brave all usages of 
society. 

The illusion of romantic love was dispelled 
from the mind of Miss Virginia Keele, and flat¬ 
tered by the attentions of Mr. John Werner, she 
decided to unite her destiny with his (provided, he 
was willing), and enjoy the fruits of the great for¬ 
tune left “the old Salt Fish” by the ties of heredity, 
though in doing so, her very considerate‘mama’felt 
that she would be sacrificing her youthful, buoyant 
affections for the stern realities of matrimonial 
alliances. The two lovers crossed blades, however, 
and Miss Virginia is left in the lurch, after which a 
thousand evolutions sparkled in their cups of being, 
each bending with an eagle’s eye upon the other’s 
ever changing notions. 

* * * * * * * * 

We now reach the close of this narrative. The 
recovery of the “hidden cross” was an object of am¬ 
bition to Frederick—that pledge which had so long 
inflamed his zeal and gratified every wish of his 
heart. But he would not ask for it nor intimate 
anything in regard to it. As days glided by, he felt 


6ft, THE-HIDDEN CROSS. 231 

how indispensible his lovely wife was to his hap¬ 
piness, for her nature, like the rich soil of Flora 
Crysta, blossomed with the flowers and bloomed 
with the fruits of love. In all, Vesta has proved 
herself a heroine amidst the storm that swept over 
her life’s devotion to Frederick Lamar. A beautiful 
wreath of glory surrounds her brow, fadeless as 
the memory of the man she idolized. Frederick’s 
character asserts itself. He was brave as the noble 
Spartan, Leonidas, and was glorious in the hope 
that the South and her cause might live. He was 
elevated in native purity and excellence. His ele¬ 
gant manners, and his frankness of disposition won 
the hearts of all. 

*•# * * * * * ** 

Twilight had just flung her shadows over the 
enchanting garden of Flora -Crysta, when Mrs. 
Howard, wrapped in a pure white mantle, wound 
her way to where Frederick and Vesta were sitting, 
the very spot where the first words of love were 
ever exchanged. Her breathing came thick and 
short, and modesty choked her speech for a moment, 
as she dwelt upon the past. Walking up to Fred¬ 
erick, she placed a cross in his hands, saying as she 
did so. 

“Here, my dear Frederick, is the ‘hidden cross.’ 
It is yours, and should be treasured for the accom¬ 
plishment of its high purpose. May it give a new 
impress of the sweetness and fidelity of your wife, 
symbolizing as it does the sorrow and tears borne 


232 vesta; or, the Hidden cross* 

for you, through the long, weary hours of the late 
war. Through all its viscissitudes you bore this 
cross, and now may it teach you both to bear 
that cross which was borne by Him whose name 
will forever vibrate upon the ears of a listening 
world. 

Frederick arose to his feet, and acknowledg¬ 
ing the cross, sealed his promise to Mrs. Howard 
by imprinting a kiss upon the blushing cheek of his 
beautiful wife; then turning to Mrs. Howard, re¬ 
plied: “Thanks for the return of this cross. 
It shall be treasured so long as God grants me life, 
and be to me a holy incentive, rising to a loftier 
meaning and forever arrayed in a more “lustrous, 
manifold and heavenly beauty.” 


THE END. 





















































V 1 * ,! -f ^ 

r> * ^ -4 . oV 

o. ' „ . a * ^ ^ ' V 





<V O - 

* V o 

N A C* 1 * * '-3 

‘ ~ A V V I fl y 0 * x ^ 

L V «A 1 8 * # o 

O C 

- ^ ^ 


N *♦/** 

O t" / " '^4. -y^’ 

° a ■% **^lllPc* : ^ i 

* 0 N 0 ' A- ^ * 8 I A 11 V 0° C 0» * 0 s 0 5 C A 

V s »'*», "> aO'VI^J*^' " V s V '* » 

a* * ^ v, v 

’ - Si * z l, - ^ a v - 



^ * 

, , «• - was - > - ‘; • 

<\v k f S* ' “' ' ' / A CO A /, "* Ks v l. ft .\' r ' b \ . _ J- 

A\ ^ •, / \ k' \ , k - O ’^*- •** li 1 F^r y O i\> q 

. * ^ ^ % - 

. I B 'T y 0 * X * «\6 <" * / v s s •' \ y 

.* % o r 0 C° N S % A X V *'-' B * ^O 

~yr&*- * - ° o * ' * :* ' »-;; v 1 °o 

^ K ^ * , 


" "O o X 

n * , 

^ *• 
> Nr ^ * 

* c^ r 




> v j r 

r ^ K K 

, <* 1 * 

Oo * 

w 


\ v ^. 



<1 x" , A. -" ** 

^ v ’ t ^ \ r\ ■) C~* x r° ft o 

"-, * ■ 1 1 A ■ V » • , / * N«’ ><’ 

. ' , T 

ft 'V’' ,Vi 

^ ^ : { 

- A- \ * ^ ^ .v 1 • 

.,. ■%.'»-■» <o^ oNt 

O’ c 0 N c * 


•<J- « >V 

s S S ,'\ 

aV .♦' 


A' .' 1 * , 

: -b o' : 

V .-) r ' ''"‘AiS 57 ' ' A ^8- * 

x ,0- c o y » o^ 1 ^ x ^ N 

T ^* 3 N 0 \V A ^ o . -\ ** 

r ^ v\ * 1 . 

■° A A 








V * 


, n o 


04* ^ + 






-f° , . , , °-l- * » s 0 ’ ^ %»,,>*' A.O°i 

’ •£, <A * 

° ^ * % ", :, 

__ _ U \ Z */ '//_. ^,»,v N> . v - 

<■> <\V </> 0 30 c >. 

.v ** ^ ^^ •-. 

o o s s ,„ 9/ y 0 * .V * A 0 <* */ s s A 'D ■* 

.# s* v ' % o. r cr c^s;^ a x v « l 1 fi * 

A N , # v . ' : - * ^ ^ -A •’• 

,mm^' 'oo' 




V. 

* 

• ^ ^ '* 

., ;/. A* o’* /• V*. 

'* c\ \/ 

^ v r 

^ ^ <$ * <^\\V 

\K * v? 9«> * 

^ Ow X ' / ✓ 

X * <IJ -* *t 





, 1 , ^ 5 S\W' "v.. ^ * 

V ° S\ 

•0 


b- ,4* * 

°. $ 

* ’> S>\ O - . 

^ cx t> ^ 




■ o O o 

\ c < \J 



' ^ v*’ ; 

,* X° °x. *, 

<r 

N o> o”',X 4,n0 ' '* 

o. C- * \V 




o 

g/'X* 2 

\V </> ^ 

° 0^ V. o 

• <**> - ^ 

- V* , / /. A. . <■> « 

^0 < *i j s -\ o 

^ , 0 N ■ c A ^ S ,\\ 




& 




V A , » * o * \ ^ V, ; s /\ CJ y .. 

,#\v" v *% 9^ / /° NG '^. ^ .# v *'"« 

o -m&\+ r 0 # ^ v •<= 

. v- 4 / 




u V ^\F+ ^ “i 

C l* * ' " jW> ^ O^' > 

N A O ^ n « ^ A' ^ y / , 

- t i 1 ^ 


n> A 

*„, ,•'j. 

v O v s s 

f - •%. ,-V' »' 

*: ^ ^ 

o aV </» z ^ 

aV ° % 

7 ^ l/ 

N a ^ * 

, \ - n j 



N (. 

























